


Red as the Dawn

by ShyAFWriter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Gen, Mutant Powers, Mutants, powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 59,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAFWriter/pseuds/ShyAFWriter
Summary: The world is divided by the colour of blood. Silvers have unnatural and incredible abilities, which they use to oppress the hungry, powerless Red population. Except, that's not entirely true. The Silvers' iron-fisted rule has lasted centuries without challenge. That's about to change.Note: this work this work takes heavy inspiration from Victoria Aveyard's 'Red Queen' series - it is basically set in an alternate universe very similar to the world explored in these books. The worlds do not work exactly the same. You do not need to have read the books to follow this work. No characters from Red Queen will appear, and there will be no spoilers from the books either. I would strongly recommend giving the books a go if this premise interests you - they are my favourite YA books to date.IMPORTANT: This fic has been rewritten in light of recent events. Please see the notes at the end of chapter 30 for a list of major changes (spoilers for those who have never read/caught up with the fic).Also, this fic has been edited to respect Lindsay's gender identity. If I missed anything, please let me know.
Comments: 134
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

“The Silvers, they sit in their palaces and mansions, spitting on us, crushing us beneath them. But what they forget – what we all forget, is that it was not like this before. The Reds came first, we came first, and I swear to you now, comrades, the Reds will be here long after the Silvers. They are a powerful few, but we are many. If we could just muster up the courage to face them, as one, we could be free of them! Free of our chains!”

Tim tuts at the preacher in the centre of the town square, in the middle of the market, stood on a box looking so feeble it’s a wonder it hasn’t crumpled under his weight. “'Nother one promising the world.”

Beside him, a young man, equal in age to Tim, glances at the preacher. The young man went by Alfredo, and he and Tim couldn’t look more mismatched. Both were tall, but the physical similarities ended there. While Tim has fair hair and the pale skin of somebody privileged enough to avoid the harsh sun’s glare for most of the day, as well as new and well-made clothes, Alfredo has sun-kissed skin, and dark eyes and hair. His clothes have seen better days, and those days may have been years ago.

“Let some of us dream,” Alfredo says.

“I would if it weren’t so dangerous.”

“Being a Red is dangerous.”

“Is this what they talk about out in the fields? Glorious Red uprisings?” Tim chuckles.

“That’s not what they talk about in the town hall?”

“Fredo, I could get blood out of a stone before I could get those guys to engage in a conversation.”

Alfredo smiles. “I’m not surprised.” He pushes off the wall and says, “Come on, I’m craving an apple.”

Tim follows to the closest stand, adorned with all fruits of the season. Tim recognises the face of the elderly woman behind the counter, who smiles as Alfredo greets her by name. “Good morning, Annabel.”

“Fredo, good to see you. How are you?”

“I’m good. Rosie settled into her job well.”

“Good to hear. She’s been coming home exhausted every night. What can I get for you?”

Alfredo picks up the biggest apple, tosses it into the air, catches it and presents it to her. “Just this.”

Annabel smiles half-heartedly. “That’s uh… four steels.”

“The price has gone up?” Alfredo asks, his heart dropping.

“Tough times, I’m afraid. You won’t find a better price in this market today.”

Alfredo sighs, reaching into his pocket for coins. When he pulls some out, he counts four silver coins. Just two steels and five coppers are left when he puts them back.

“Fredo, let…!” Tim begins.

“No.” Alfredo hands the money over, thanks Annabel, and proceeds through the market, taking a bite from the most expensive apple of his life.

“Fredo, I know you’re struggling. If you’d just let me, I could…”

“I’m not struggling, Tim.”

“So you have enough to pay the king’s tax in two days? And cover food until next pay?”

“I don’t want to rely on you, Tim.”

“It’s not your fault if you don’t get paid enough. Especially not when the taxes keep rising like this. It’s not shameful to ask for a little help.”

Alfredo rounds on him. “And what happens if I wind up depending on you, and something happens to you? What happens if the Silvers go on another rampage? Or they go to war and conscript you?”

“They’ve never attacked us here, and there’s no war in sight.”

“I’m sorry, Tim, I’m on my own.”

“Fredo…!”

“Is there anything you need, or are we done? They want me back out in the fields in half an hour.”

Tim rolls his eyes and says, “One stop. Come on, follow me.”

He makes his way over to a stall selling soaps and cleaning products, and while he chooses, Alfredo gets himself out of the way and eats the apple in silence.

Naturally, he worries about his finances. He doesn’t have enough to pay the king’s tax – he didn’t before he bought the apple. But he’ll figure it out – he always has.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a commotion across the square. After weaving his way through the crowds to see what was happening, he watches as two Silver soldiers drag Annabel out from behind her stall far too forcefully for a woman her age. “Let go of me! I paid this morning!” she shouts.

“Annabel!” Alfredo calls, but neither she nor the guards hear him. Nobody in the gathering crowd steps in to help. Not even the preacher who preached of a world where Reds rose up against Silvers. ‘Hypocrite’, Alfredo thinks.

“Do you have any proof? Your receipt?”

“I… This is unfair! I paid, like I pay every week!”

“Confiscate her stock,” one of the soldiers orders.

“Hey! Hey!” Alfredo calls, approaching the soldiers. He stops dead when they turn to face him. “She paid,” he says. “I know she paid. Let her go.”

“Stupid boy! Don’t worry about me! Go home! Don’t get involved!” Annabel shouts.

One of the soldiers approaches until he is eye-to-eye with Alfredo. “Did you just order a representative of the king?”

“Not me. By the king’s law, you can’t confiscate her stock if she paid her tax and she’s not selling contraband. She paid this morning.”

“She paid? And your word is the evidence?”

“Yes, sir.”

The soldier laughs, almost cackles. Alfredo notices the flames that spring to life in the soldier’s hands. He’s going to attack him. He’s going to burn him alive. He needs to do something. He needs to…

What comes next is purely instinctive. Alfredo steps back and thrusts his arms out as if to push the soldier, but his palms make no contact. He gasps as he feels something, something strange and inexplainable deep within his muscles, even his bones. The wind around him, so still before, sweeps to life, swooping around and following the direction of Alfredo’s arms. A powerful gust slams into the soldier, taking him off-balance entirely. He is blown off his feet, back into Annabel’s stand, which collapses under the power of the wind. Around him, others cling to whatever they can to avoid being swept away by the force of the wind.

When the wind dies down again, Alfredo is left staring in horror at his hands. That is, until he looks up and sees the dead-silent stares of the townsfolk, all on him. The other Silver soldier is frozen and released Annabel in his shock. She didn’t run, though, she too is staring at Alfredo as if he were a monster, not someone she watched grow up.

Alfredo scans the crowd, looking for his closest friend, and perhaps the only person who will understand. He finds Tim with nothing but fear in his eyes.

“Tim, it’s not…” he splutters, stepping towards him. Tim, and everybody around him, immediately recoil.

Then, the whispers begin, from behind him originally, but they quickly spread throughout the crowd. “Silver… It’s a Silver…”

“I’m not… I’m not! I’m not a Silver! I don’t…”

“If you’re not a Silver,” the soldier says, “Then what are you?”

“I don’t… I…”

The Silver soldier steps forward, and Alfredo backs away. The crowd immediately steps away, anticipating a dangerous Silver fight in the middle of the market. Alfredo scans quickly, sees an opening, and bolts. The crowd separates for him, and he runs, fleeing the square.


	2. Chapter 2

Tim does not really sleep that night, traumatised by… well, he can’t explain what it was. A Silver under his nose all this time? Knowingly, or unknowingly? Either scenario is equally horrifying.

His best friend is a monster, and he doesn't know what else is a lie.

He’s startled by a tap on his window. Silently, he pulls himself from his bed and peers through the curtains.

Alfredo’s lost and pleading eyes stare up at him. Tim swallows the fear he feels for the love of the best friend he grew up with, and opens the window.

Alfredo begins to whisper to him immediately. “Tim, I know what it looks like, but I swear, I’m not…”

“Alfredo, you can’t be here.”

Alfredo’s breath catches, and he leans in. “I’m not a Silver. Tim, you know I’m not! You’ve seen me bleed – countless times! I’m Red! I need you, Tim.”

“You said it yourself this morning – you’re on your own, Fredo.”

“Tim, please! I’m begging you! I have nowhere to go. I don’t know what I am, I don’t know what… this is,” Alfredo says, looking at his hands.

“Don’t!” Tim warns.

“I just need somewhere to hide for a few days, until I can figure out what to do. I won’t let anyone see me; I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Fredo,” Tim shakes his head. “I can’t, man. I got a family. I can’t get involved in whatever this is. All of Burron knows about you now, and I’m the first person they’ll suspect of helping you. I’m sorry, man, I gotta keep my head down.”

Alfredo can see in his eyes that his mind is made up – it was before he arrived. He nods softly and sniffles back tears. “Okay. You’re right, you shouldn’t get involved. I, uh… I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“I guess so,” Tim says softly.

Alfredo offers a hand to Tim, who hesitantly clasps it with his own. Then, they embrace tightly, and Alfredo sheds a tear. “I’ll see you around, man.”

“Yeah. Take care of yourself out there. You’ll figure this out – you always do. Don’t let yourself become one of those monsters. Promise me.”

“I won’t.”

Tim pulls away, and Alfredo backs away from the window. “Goodbye,” he whispers. Tim nods, and, after two cautious glances either way, Alfredo sprints towards the outskirts of the village.

Tim shuts the window, closes the curtains and sits on his bed with his head in his hands. In honesty, he isn't sure he made the right call. Alfredo was right – he had seen his blood, and it was as red as scarlet, just like everyone else’s. What he saw today in the market was unexplainable, but it was just as unexplainable for Alfredo. A Red with Silver abilities was unheard of.

Tim suddenly stands, throws on a coat and rushes outside, searching desperately. He’d made a terrible mistake. Alfredo is no threat to him, or any other Red. “Alfredo!” he calls. There’s no response, save a few lights switching on in other homes. “ALFREDO!”

Alfredo wakes with a start, gasping for breath. He hadn’t slept much, and now his head was groggy with both hunger and fatigue. “Ugh…” he moans.

He shudders, however, when he hears an engine. It must have woken him, and it’s coming closer. No Red possesses a motor vehicle – the Silvers are hunting him.

Alfredo grabs his bag and sprints behind the cover of a tree, watching the road as much as he dares. With the adrenaline, he notices that strange feeling from yesterday, the same thing he felt when he controlled the wind. It both irks and terrifies him that now, as he waits, he can somehow feel the slow movements of the air around him, as if it’s waiting for a command.

“Deep breaths, Fredo,” he whispers to himself. “You got this.”

It doesn't do much to relax him. Ability or no ability, if they see him, he's going up against who knows how many Silvers, all trained to kill since birth.

Along the road comes a truck, with at least ten Silvers in the back. It moves much faster than Alfredo had anticipated – presumably because of the open road. He ducks back behind the tree and focuses on breathing slow, quiet breaths until it passes.

Except, it doesn’t pass. It slows to a halt not too far away, and Alfredo can’t help but peer out slightly to check why.

A Silver man appears before him suddenly, almost as if they blinked into existence. They kick Alfredo, sending him several feet backwards where he lands on his side. Alfredo had heard of Silvers that moved faster than the eye – that must be what this Silver’s ability is.

“Filthy Red. Where did you steal that power from? Who did you steal it from?!”

“I didn’t steal any fucking power!”

“Impossible!” the Silver roars. He hears them move again, and the strange feeling wells up within him as he subconsciously calls to the wind for defence. The air whips up into a small tornado, and then blasts outward in all directions. Alfredo hears the super-speed Silver hit a tree, and drags himself to his feet as quickly as he can.

He wants to run, but he knows running is pointless. Hell, fighting is pointless, but perhaps there’s a chance that, even without training, he’s stronger than… fifteen Silvers? Maybe not.

‘Reasoning, then,’ he thinks, shouting: “I am not a threat!” at the oncoming Silvers. Perhaps the battering winds around him persuade them otherwise, perhaps they disagree, perhaps they don’t care and just want a fight, but none of them even hesitate. Two of them have arms encased in fire, others spin metal shards around their hands, and who knows what abilities the rest have. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Leave me be!”

Alfredo doesn’t need to, though, as from behind the Silvers, a jet of water launches. Alfredo dives behind cover, but it was unnecessary – the water never reaches him.

Instead, he watches as the water knocks many of the silvers to the ground, extinguishing flames before they can be launched at Alfredo. When the jet of water ends, Alfredo feels the temperature drop as if it were being sucked from the air around him. Much of the water, before it can soak into the ground, crystallises, and shards of ice begin to launch themselves at the recovering Silvers. And finally, a great flame roars and lunges down upon them.

Alfredo can’t explain what he’s seeing. Silvers attacking other Silvers? While certainly not unheard of in their constant struggles to gain political power as well as raw power over each other, hunting a freak Red is hardly the time for a battle.

Still, Alfredo doesn’t want to question his luck, especially as the quick Silver grunts and begins to rouse from his daze. “Not today,” Alfredo whispers, summoning a gust that sweeps the Silver back out into the open, where hopefully the warring Silvers will take care of him, or at least distract him long enough for Alfredo to lose them. How the Silver lands or what injuries it may cause doesn’t concern him. When he is certain no one is paying attention to him, he bolts into the forest.

Alfredo doesn’t make it far before he hears another running after him. “Hey! Hey, calm down!” somebody cries. “Stop! Listen to me!”

‘Like hell,’ Alfredo thinks, though he does consider turning to take the fight. He’s beaten two Silvers one-on-one now – what’s a third?

A wall of fire roars to life in front of him, and Alfredo skids to a halt before it, desperately searching for a way out – this one is clearly stronger than the fire-powered Silver in the market yesterday. A man not much older than himself with curly brown hair grabs his shoulders. “Hey,” he says, “You need to calm down!”

A gust of wind throws the man back, and he grunts as he lands. “Ugh… I’m a Red,” he says.

Alfredo’s heart jumps. “A Red? Not possible. You’re one of those pyro freaks!”

The man drags himself to his feet, catching his breath. “The Silvers call us Burners, actually. And you, what, you’re a Windweaver?”

“Windweaver?”

“Controls the wind, yada yada. Sound familiar?”

“Burners aren’t Reds.”

“Windweavers aren’t Reds. What’s your point?”

Alfredo’s eyes narrow. “Show me your blood. Cut yourself.”

“Is it not obvious from my face? Feels pretty red and flushed to me.” Still, the man does as asked, finding a sharp rock that he slashes along his arm, grunting as he does. A small trail of red follows the wound. “Happy?”

“Why do you have abilities?” Alfredo demands. “Why do I have abilities?! What’s wrong with us?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with us. We’ll explain everything. My name’s Michael. I’m a Red from the capital. And you are?”

“Fredo… Alfredo.”

“Alfredo, everything is going to be fine. I know what you’re going through is freaky as hell, but we’re going to help you. We are not the only Reds with powers.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s rare,” Michael says, “But it’s not impossible. Silvers hunt us down when they hear about us – they don’t want Reds thinking we’re equals. But some of us, we escaped, and we found each other. We’re building a resistance to fight for Reds.” He holds a hand out. “Come with me.”

“And go where?”

“The Silvers have an old military base, abandoned a decade ago, in the heartlands. It’s safe there – for now at least. There’s a great training ground, too. We’ll teach you how to control your ability, if you’ll let us.”

Alfredo looks at his hands again, and then looks to the dying wall of flames behind him. He could easily step over and keep running. He doubts Michael would try to stop him. But run where? If not for Michael and the others, he’d already be dead or captured after only a day of running. And if what Michael says is true, they’ll hunt him to the ends of the Earth. Is he really one of the few Reds that scares Silvers?

“Okay,” Alfredo says. “I’ll come.”

Michael approaches and pats his back, guiding him back towards the road. “I knew you looked like a fighter.”

* * *

Alfredo - Windweaver  
Michael - Burner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished writing my first proper fight scene for this work. It happens much further down the plot, but I am absolutely carrying on this work just to share it. It's the longest fight I've ever written, and I'm super proud of it. In the meantime, someone needs to train Fredo up. There's only so much I can write and you can read about him repeatedly shoving people over with the wind. XD


	3. Chapter 3

Waiting beside another convoy truck further down the road, Alfredo sees three men. They must have been following the Silvers, and sprung into action when they realised the Silvers had found him.

The oldest man is perhaps 40 years of age, with more tattoos on his exposed arms than Alfredo could count. He looks worn and tired, but offers Alfredo a smile. The other two men are much younger, closer to Alfredo’s age. One has dirty blonde hair and sunglasses, and the other has well-kept dark hair and fair skin. The latter beams when he sees them approaching.

“Alfredo, this is Geoff, Gavin and Trevor. Guys, this is Alfredo. Windweaver.”

The older man, Geoff, steps forward with an arm outstretched to shake Alfredo’s hand. Reluctantly, he takes it. “You’re not too badly injured,” the man comments. “You held up on your own well.”

“Geoff is a healer,” Michael explains.

“If you’re comfortable, I could get rid of those bruises for you?” Alfredo nods nervously. Geoff smiles in a calming manner, and says, “Lift your shirt, I’ll need contact.”

Alfredo takes the corner of his shirt and raises it just over his lower ribs, where fresh bruises bloom from the Silver’s kick. He closes his eyes and tenses as Geoff brings his hand to it, expecting a sting. Instead, when Geoff’s flesh meets the wound, there’s a warm, soothing feeling flooding across his skin. When he looks down, he watches as the bruises rescind beneath Geoff’s hand, and when he pulls away, the pain and the bruises are gone.

“Whoa…” Alfredo murmurs.

Geoff chuckles. “It’s no pyro show, but it’s a useful ability.” He takes Michael’s willingly offered arms and heals the cut he self-inflicted.

“You’re Red?” Alfredo asks, originally aimed at Geoff, but his eyes eventually direct the question to Gavin and Trevor too.

“Red as the dawn,” the dark-haired young man, Trevor, says. He thumps the truck, saying: “Hop in, we’ll get you home, cleaned up, and some fresh clothes. And no doubt you’re tired.”

Geoff and Trevor sit up front, while Michael and the other man, Gavin, accompany Alfredo in the back of the truck. As the truck sets off, Geoff offers Alfredo a snack. It’s not much, just a sandwich, but Alfredo takes it gladly.

While he eats, Michael and Gavin make conversation. Alfredo doesn’t engage much initially, responding in one word answers where he can, but it doesn’t put the others off. Michael and Gavin are clearly very relaxed with each other.

“I actually knew about my powers for a year before I left the capital,” Michael says. “Some pompous guard threatened my brother for pick-pocketing. He wanted him hung, and I snapped. I never found out if they got him to a healer on time. I didn’t really care. He deserved it. Obviously my family freaked out about it, so I ran.”

“Michael’s a bit of a hot-head,” Gavin chuckles.

“It’s a better origin story than yours, idiot.”

Gavin shrugs, and laughs again. “Yeah. I fell in a pond, panicked, and the next thing I knew the whole thing froze. I almost died. They blamed it on Silvers, said maybe one was watching and tried to kill me for the fun of it, but I knew it was me.”

“Froze?” Alfredo asks.

“Yeah, they call me a Shiver. I can freeze water, control ice, make it cold, you know, stuff like that.”

“So if you control ice, and Michael is fire, then Trevor controls water?”

“That’s right, I’m a Nymph.”

“The Silvers who own the land my village is on are Nymphs. They, uh… They killed a lot of people,” Alfredo says.

“That ain’t unique to your Nymph overlords,” Geoff says. “The important thing is that we are not them. Some of us actually know what humanity is.”

“We’re stronger, too,” Michael smirks. “But don’t let them know that.”

“Stronger?” Alfredo asks.

“Did you miss that whole fight? Three of us took out maybe ten, fifteen Silvers! Sure, we had the element of surprise, but that’s still impressive. Trev’s only been training for a few months.”

“You beat that Swift, too,” Gavin says. “With no training whatsoever. Imagine what you could do in a month, or a year!”

“And one day, we’re going to take the fight to them. No more Silver overlords. They’ll answer for their crimes against Reds.”

“Easy, Michael,” Geoff says, “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

* * *

Alfredo - Windweaver  
Michael - Burner  
Geoff - Skin Healer  
Gavin - Shiver  
Trevor - Nymph


	4. Chapter 4

The truck pulls up outside the largest building Alfredo has ever seen a few hours later. It’s twice as tall as the Burron town hall, and possibly as long as his whole village. The land around is fully tarmacked and painted with white lines almost everywhere, yet no one is here, and there aren’t any cities or villages around.

Gavin hops out of the truck first, with Michael right on his heels. Alfredo hesitates, but follows after a reassuring smile from Geoff.

“Silvers used this place for the best part of the last decade, until they built a shiny new one on the other side of the capital,” Trevor explains, “Be a shame to let it go to waste, huh?”

“How did you get in?” Alfredo asks.

“You’re about to meet the answer,” Geoff says. He nods towards one of the entrances, from which a rather short man emerges, but despite his height, he looks like he could punch a dent in pure metal. His head is shaven, but he looks approachable with shining eyes and an excited beam on his face. He bounds towards them almost like a over-excited puppy.

“Welcome to Borundcamp,” the man says, taking and shaking Alfredo’s hand. “I’m Jeremy.”

“Alfredo,” Alfredo replies, unsure of himself for some reason.

“Jeremy’s what’s called an Oblivion,” Michael says.

Jeremy leans in and smiles. “Means I can make things explode by touching them.” Alfredo recoils instantly, checking his hand for, well, he wasn’t sure. Signs of explosion? Jeremy chuckles and takes a step back. “Don’t worry, I only explode bad things. So, what about you?” Jeremy asks. “No, no, no, wait, let me guess. Swift?”

“Windweaver,” Michael says. “And probably a confused and hungry one.”

“Ah! Right, right, sorry. Jack’s in the kitchen now, actually. You should ask if there’s any steak left. Looks like we need to build you up,” Jeremy says.

“We’ll get him in there as soon as possible. Gav, you think you could let Jack know?”

“Sure thing, Geoff” Gav nods.

“Trev, why don’t you show him to his bedroom and get him some clean clothes?”

“Uh huh,” Trev beacons with his head for Alfredo to follow him. “You’ll love it. Clean water comes out of a tap here!”

Trevor leaves Alfredo inside a bedroom roughly twice the size of Alfredo’s house back in Burron. It has electricity too – generated by the sun, Trevor said. And a bathroom off to the side too. The bed is larger than his bed at home, and quilted, and when he sits down, it’s soft. He could almost collapse and sleep immediately. But Trevor told him to shower and change into whatever was in the wardrobe – it should fit, he said.

Alfredo’s first warm shower in possibly his whole life is another haven he almost collapses and sleeps in. He rests his head on his arm against the wall and lets the water run until it runs clean. The soap available looks expensive, and smells strangely like the flowers around the fields of Burron. He suddenly feels lost and heavy – Burron is a long way away, and he’ll probably never see it again, nor any of the people he grew up with. Would they even want to see him anyway?

He turns the shower off – not such a wonderful experience anymore. The towel waiting, almost as soft as the bed, is already warm when he grabs it. He dries himself quickly and ties it around himself as he steps back out into the bedroom. The wardrobe contains clean and ironed clothes – quite basic, like what the others were wearing. He opts for black jeans and a simple grey T-shirt.

The man he sees in the mirror is not the man who worked the fields of Burron yesterday. Clean, almost presentable, even, and timid. He looks like he’s more than Alfredo could ever aspire to be, and yet he hates it.

‘At least I’m not alone,’ he thinks. He combs his hair over and leaves the bedroom.

Trevor is waiting outside one of the other doors. He nods when he sees Alfredo. “You clean up well.”

“It feels strange,” Alfredo admits.

“Yeah, I remember. Kitchen’s just this way – you hungry?”

Alfredo nods, and Trevor guides him down two corridors. The room they turn into was a kitchen, certainly, but now there were plants and pots of soil everywhere. Geoff and Gavin are sat at one of the tables, while a man Alfredo has yet to meet works at one of the counters.

The man looks like a huggable bear, with a great ginger beard and small glasses. He halts the plate he is prepping when Alfredo enters and grins. “You’re here!” he says. “I was hoping for a new recruit.”

“Jack, can we get a just-about-everything fruit salad for this guy?” Trevor asks. “Large portion.”

“Already coming up,” Jack says. “Alfredo, right? What’s your favourite fruit?”

“Uh… apple, I guess?”

“Apple, apple,” Jack murmurs, searching the bonsai trees on the counter. “Coming right up!”

One of the trees begins to grow, and a budding fruit begins to swell, until an apple clearly far too big for the tree breaks off. Jack catches it and shows it to Alfredo. It’s the reddest, biggest apple he’s ever seen. “Juicy enough, you think?”

Alfredo’s jaw just drops, and Trevor ends up answering for him. “It’s fine, Jack. Fredo, this is Jack. He’s what’s called a Greenwarden. Basically, he controls plants.” Trevor directs Alfredo to the table with Geoff and Gavin as he speaks, though Alfredo keeps staring at the plant in amazement.

“You can make food out of nothing?!” Alfredo exclaims.

“Well, only the basics. Grain, corn, fruit and veg, stuff like that. A few syrups too.”

“Silvers can make food out of nothing,” Alfredo says, near disbelieving. “Why do they take most of our harvest?”

“Silver Greenwardens don’t want to waste their time in food production,” Geoff says, “And someone needs to feed the tech hubs and city populations.”

“But food prices are rising, and people are starving!”

“They don’t care, Alfredo. Don’t waste your breath on us, we know. Save your frustration for when you come face to face with them. It won’t be long.”

Jack sighs as he works. “Geoff, don’t scare the kid.”

“I’m just being realistic.”

“You’re being an alarmist,” Gavin counters. “We don’t have any reason to believe that Silvers are on our trail yet.”

“They know we exist,” Geoff says, taking a swig of his drink. “That’s enough reason.”

“Do you think you can beat them? If they attack?” Alfredo asks, glancing nervously at each of them.

Trevor shrugs. “Depends how many they send. Perhaps with a trained Windweaver on our side the odds will be more favourable.”

Gavin perks up at the mention. “Oh! Training! Right! Michael offered to train Fredo before dinner. Michael’s powers are really similar to yours, Fredo; you’ll be in good hands. And after dinner we’re going to do some sparring.”

“Oh, nice, I’ll spar. Who’s in?” Trevor asks.

“Mikey, Matt, Jeremy and me.”

“Aw, Jack, you’re not in?” Trevor asks as he delivers a plate of fruits to Alfredo.

While Alfredo gawps at the sheer amount of food, much of which he’s never even tasted, Jack chuckles. “Naw, not this time.”

“Who’s Matt?” Alfredo asks through a mouthful of apple.

“You’ll see tonight,” Trevor says. “Or rather, maybe you won’t.”

“Gav, why don’t you spar with Trey tonight?” Geoff suggests.

“No!” Trevor protests.

“Yes,” Gavin says simultaneously. “Fredo, you want a go?”

Geoff answers first. “Absolutely not, he’s not ready yet.”

Gavin shrugs. “We’ll just put him up against Jeremy or Matt – they’d probably both struggle against him.”

“Not Jeremy,” Alfredo says quickly.

Trevor laughs. “He won’t actually blow you up, you know? A spar with Jeremy is over when he touches you. But sure – Alfredo can spar Matt.”

* * *

Alfredo - Windweaver  
Michael - Burner  
Geoff - Skin Healer  
Gavin - Shiver  
Trevor - Nymph  
Jeremy - Oblivion  
Jack - Greenwarden


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the day went by in as much a rush as the morning did. Mercifully, after lunch, they advised Alfredo to return to his room and sleep, and he fell unconscious almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. A few hours later, he was woken up by Michael knocking at his door, offering to train him for an hour or so before dinner.

Michael took Alfredo outside, and he taught Alfredo the basics of manipulating his element: controlling the speed, the direction, some basic manoeuvres as well as other uses of his powers. Most of it went over Alfredo’s head, he thought.

Dinner was abuzz with excited chatter from the younger men, which mostly left Alfredo to eat a fried concoction of meats and veg that tasted foreign and delightful.

At one point, Michael directed the conversation to Alfredo’s training and offered some praise, but Trevor noted Alfredo’s reluctance to speak and drew the conversation onto his own training instead.

As Alfredo finishes up, the talk turns to trash talk, particularly between Trevor and Gavin. It’s clear there’s a strong friendly rivalry between the two. It’s at this point, finally looking away from his plate long enough to focus on his companions, that Alfredo realises that there are no faces he doesn’t recognise here.

“Where’s Matt?” he asks.

“Watching the cameras,” Jeremy says. “Can’t leave them too long, and Matt’s the best for it.”

“Why? What are his powers?”

“Sh…”

Geoff speaks up quickly. “JEREMY!”

“What?”

“It’s a valuable and rare opportunity to train against someone whose abilities you don’t know before going into the fight.”

“Ah,” Jeremy says, chuckling. “Got ya.”

“Shiver?” Alfredo asks. “Another Shiver, like Gavin?”

“You’ll see, Fredo," Trevor says, winking. Michael adds: "I taught you everything you should need to overcome somebody with Matt’s ability. You’ll be fine,”

“Well, if you’re all ready, shall we?” Trevor asks, beaming. He stands, collecting empty plates and glasses and deposits them beside the sink as the others rise.

Michael and Gavin almost tackle each other out of the door, chuckling. Geoff sighs and says to Alfredo, “He’s riling him up. Michael’s a menace when he’s riled up. Come on, we’ll show you the way.”

Alfredo follows close as Geoff leads him out into the corridor, where they begin to tail Michael and Gavin’s play-fighting. The others follow on afterwards, and Trevor and Jeremy race ahead too.

“Children,” Geoff tuts. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Then that’s your training for the day, Geoffrey,” Jack says.

They turn a corner and head up a flight of stairs, and along a long corridor. As they go, Geoff and Jack point a few passages and rooms out, including a gym and the staircase to the roof. Alfredo does his best to take it in.

Close to the centre of the corridor, the boys chase each other into one of the rooms. Alfredo follows and sees it is a small theatre, except rather than a stage or a screen before them, it is a large glass window, looking down over a dark arena.

“Welcome to the viewing box,” Jeremy says. “Go through that door there, it takes you down into the training arena. Everything down there is Silver-proofed to the best of their abilities. And this glass,” he taps the window, “Bullet proof. Means we can really go all-out.”

“Trevor and Gav are going first,” Michael says, smirking at Gavin. Gavin's face lights up at the prospect. Trevor looks considerably less impressed. He rolls his eyes, then both leave to descend to the arena floor. 

“Alfredo!" Jeremy takes his shoulders and guides him to a seat. "You sit over here – best view in the house. You’ll learn a lot.”

Micheal flicks a few switches off on a panel to the side of the room, and the lights in the arena blink to life, shining down on an arena the size of half a crop field. The floor isn’t metal, but seems to be some sort of quasi-earth. For Greenwardens, Alfredo realises.

“Spars are simple,” Jeremy says. “You fight on until one of you can’t anymore. Either you call it by tapping your shoulder twice, or shouting ‘stop’, or you incapacitate your opponent. Doesn’t matter how badly you or they get hurt – Geoff’s never far away.”

“Just don’t kill them. I’m good but I can’t resurrect the dead,” Geoff adds.

“But… I’ve barely trained. I don’t have as much control as you’re asking. How can I pull my punches when I can barely figure out how to throw them in the first place?” Alfredo asks.

“Don’t worry,” Jack says, “You’ll learn. Besides, untrained, it’s unlikely you’ll be killing anything in one hit.”

“Trevor and Gavin, on the other hand…” Michael says, watching the two of them stand opposite each other in the centre of the arena. Trevor curls his wrist, and a ring of water swirls around his his hand. Gavin flexes his fingers, and Alfredo can just make out a mist of condensation around him. The temperature must be plummeting, but Gavin seems unphased. Michael holds a button on the side panel and says: “Ready when you are, guys.” His voice echoes around the arena, and he counts them down.

Trevor throws his hands up, and a monster of a wave rises before him, before it plummets down over Gavin. Or so it should have done. But Gavin thrusts one hand out, and the whole wave halts in its tracks. Much of the water has frozen solid, and what is left slides back down the ice to Trevor. Then the great ice wave shatters like glass, and as it falls, it reforms into icy spears that launch themselves like rockets at Trevor.

The Nymph dodges, but not before one of them catches his arm. Red blood oozes from the wound and down his arm, but Trevor does not give up the fight so easily. Water lashes down on Gavin again. It is a dizzying sight for Alfredo, who is still coming to terms with his own freakish, unnatural combination of Red blood and Silver power.

“I’ve never seen Silvers fight like this…” Alfredo murmurs.

“That’s because they’re not Silvers,” Geoff says. “Not Silvers that you’d have seen, anyway. In your village, the Silvers you would have seen would be the grunts. The weak ones, that get by by tormenting the only people they think are weaker than they are. Average Silvers could never match us.”

“Why?” Alfredo asks. “It makes no sense – Silvers have been systematically boosting their power through marriages for centuries. Why are we more powerful?”

“Something about our blood,” Geoff says. “We’d love to know too, but finding a Silver researcher to figure that out for us would be… difficult.”

“And dangerous. If the king finds out what makes us tick, he’ll use it to enhance the Silvers’ abilities,” Jack says, “And there goes our miracle.”

Alfredo naturally isn’t satisfied with the answer, but Jack is right. He’d rather no one knows why they’re so powerful than the Silvers knowing. He focuses on the fight again, watching as another shard of ice finds Trevor’s thigh. Trevor roars, and water practically erupts from the ice around him. But it's not enough. Gavin pulls the water back under his control - it freezes before Trevor can ever make use of it again. After that, Trevor calls the fight. His leg is too badly wounded, and battling Gavin is simply pointless and will only serve to frustrate him. Geoff leaves the viewing box to hurry down and heal both of the fighters back up. 

“Still trying to brute force it,” Jack comments. "Trevor's smart. He's tactical in his fights with others. If he'd only try."

“There's no strategy when you're fighting Gavin. Dude's unpredictable as hell,” Michael says.

You'd think he'd have figured out a way, what with all that Silver fighting he's taken to watching."

“He watches what?” Alfredo asks.

“Silvers fight all the time on TV," Jack explains, "Both for the amusement of other Silvers and to intimidate any Reds who see. Personally I find it barbaric, but Trevor watches. I don't particularly think he enjoys it. He has a curious mind - he's a bright guy. I think he does it to study them. Know your enemy, right?”

The conversation thankfully halts abruptly when a young man Alfredo does not recognise enters the viewing box. He’s tall, with shaggy brown hair and an equally scruffy beard, as well as small glasses. His clothes are as plain as everyone else’s. He looks unassuming.

The man raises his eyebrows in shock to see Alfredo. His eyes dart between the new Red and Jeremy, before settling back on Alfredo. “You’re new,” he comments, before extending a hand. “Name’s Matt. Jeremy didn’t tell me there was a new guy here.”

Alfredo takes his hand and shakes. “Alfredo.”

“What’s your power, Alfredo?”

Jeremy laughs. “You’re about to find out. Trevor and Gavin are on their way back up. You two, off you go!”

The two find themselves whisked away by Trevor and Jeremy, and in the centre of the arena, they stand opposing each other.

“They didn’t tell you what I can do either, did they?” Matt asks. Alfredo shakes his head and gulps. “I’ll go easy on you if you go easy on me?”

“Please.”

The tannoy screeches, and Michael’s voice echoes around the arena. “Remember what we taught you, Fredo. You know everything you need to know to beat Matt.”

“Remember, you can get out of this any time,” Gavin adds. “Just say so, or tap your shoulder twice. Got it?”

Alfredo nods towards the box.

“Alright, well, if you’re both ready, we’ll see you both in a minute,” Michael says. He begins a countdown from three, and Alfredo takes a breath as he senses for the wind in preparation.

“Good luck,” Matt says. Alfredo returns the good will, and Michael’s countdown hits zero.

The arena plunges into total darkness. Alfredo can’t see anything except for, well, himself, so bright he’s almost shining despite there being no light source. It’s completely unnatural, and seeing his body in the utter darkness is almost dizzying. He near completely loses control of the air in his shock.

Something slams into his forehead and he reels back. The wind whistles around him by instinct, and he turns frantically, scanning the darkness and listening for anything. He receives another blow, this time to his chest, that winds him. In response, he throws the wind towards the direction he thinks it came from. The wind proceeds undeterred by any obstacle.

“Alfredo!” Michael’s voice calls over the tannoy. “Remember what I taught you. You’re blind, but you can feel the air – you have a sixth sense!”

“Don’t give him tips!” Matt’s voice shouts back from somewhere to the left close by. Alfredo weaves a wind and throws it in that direction, but Matt had anticipated it and was long gone.

He hears a shuffle to his left, and just manages to dodge a strike by diving into a roll. He backs away from where he stood, listening carefully as he closes his eyes. Then, he does as Michael taught him. He reaches into the wind, feeling its movements as if they were his own. It takes time, precious moments to find the shape moving through the air. The wind roars to life, and the shape moves – it dodges to the right, so that’s where Alfredo directs the great gust.

Finally, it hits, and Matt screams as he is thrown half-way across the arena. As he goes, the lights seem to return, albeit warped and strange. Matt lands hard on his arm, and Alfredo shudders at the snapping sound. The light returns to normal, and Geoff sprints to Matt’s moaning form.

“Great job, Fredo!” Jeremy’s voice calls. “And good effort, Matt.”

Alfredo joins Geoff by Matt’s side. With Geoff’s touch, Matt’s pained expression melts away, but the blood on the ground can’t be healed away. “Matt, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. You did good.” He even chuckles. “You’re a Windweaver, then?”

“And you control the dark?”

“The light, actually. I can make illusions too, make things invisible. I’m not much of a fighter, but I’m useful. They call me a Shadow, by the way.”

“He hit your head, you feel alright?” Geoff asks.

Alfredo touches his forehead, and his fingers come away slightly bloody. With the adrenaline fading, it is beginning to throb, as well as his chest to a lesser extent. “I’m okay, for now. Heal Matt first.”

Geoff nods, running his fingers carefully over the broken bone in practised motions. Under the skin, the bone shifts and knits itself back together. “You showed a lot of promise in that fight,” Geoff says as he works, “You should know that. It must have been a hell of a day for you, and you must be exhausted by it all. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see to your training personally for the foreseeable future. I trained Michael, you know – if I can tame that, we can bring your winds to heel.”

“And when I’m trained?” Alfredo asks, “Then what?”

“Don’t worry about that for now. Jack and I are planning our course. Just rest assured, your talents won’t be wasted.”

* * *

Alfredo - Windweaver  
Michael - Burner  
Geoff - Skin Healer  
Gavin - Shiver  
Trevor - Nymph  
Jeremy - Oblivion  
Jack - Greenwarden  
Matt - Shadow


	6. Chapter 6

Alfredo watches Michael’s movements from the viewing box as the fire bends and twirls in on itself and lashes. Michael isn’t the epitome of control, but he does have years of experience to Alfredo’s weeks. As he watches, Alfredo’s hand and fingers flex and guide the air as Michael does, albeit with far less force. Michael throws his flames forward, and Alfredo lets the gust go.

Alfredo jumps when Trevor slumps down next to him. “Sorry, if I startled you,” Trevor says.

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Trevor peers out over the training grounds, where he watches Michael’s flames dance with Gavin and his blades of ice. Occasionally, the ice melts and forms together, on Gavin’s command, and form a shield, only to melt back apart and sail at Michael.

“You think you’re picking it up?” Trevor asks Alfredo.

“…Sure. Yeah, I’ll get it.”

“You want to spar against me when they’re done? I’ll go easy on you, if you prefer?”

“No,” Alfredo says, perhaps too quickly. “No, I’m good. Gavin offered to train with me later.”

Trevor eyes Alfredo closely. He doesn’t take his eyes off the sparring match below, and not for interest – it seems forced.

“You always jump when I use my powers,” Trevor comments. “Afraid of water?”

“No, it’s not that…”

“Then what?”

“Nymphs.”

Trevor nods his head slowly. “That’s fair. Silver Nymphs own your village, right? I can only imagine what they did.”

“To my village? No. I’m not sure they even know it exists. If they do, they certainly don’t care. But… I wasn’t born in Burron. I was born a few towns away, in Urwood. I don’t remember it, but I’ve heard it was nice.”

“Was?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah, was. The Nymphs were passing through when they heard news that somebody had slandered them at court. They were so mad they took it out on the village there and then – raised the river and flooded the whole place. My mother hid me, and somebody heard me cry and rescued me after the Silvers were gone. Both of my parents drowned. So I just don’t like Nymphs.”

“I’m sorry,” Trevor says.

Alfredo shrugs. “Like I said, I don’t remember it. You might not have even been born.”

“You understand that I’m not like them?”

“Sure, I get that. It… It’s just going to take some time for me to get used to it, you know?”

“That’s alright. Listen, Fredo. We will get justice for your family, I swear it. These Nymphs – I will personally flood them out, and they’ll answer to you and every other Red they have ever wronged before we’re finished.”

“You don’t think handing them over to Reds might be a bad idea?”

“How so?”

“People are angry, Trev. And they loathe Silvers. And yeah, maybe it is deserved, I don’t know, but we can’t help them execute every Silver in the kingdom. If we do that, we’re no better than they are. Besides, if people get a taste of Silver blood, they’ll just want more, and more and more. And the rest of the Silvers in the kingdom? Who knows what they’ll do to innocent Reds in retaliation? It’ll just drive a bigger wedge between us. Is that what we want?”

“What are you saying?

“I’m saying are we going to be genocidal overlords, or do we want blood equality? I’m not saying I don’t want to see Silvers face justice – I do, I dream of it. But if we want to make a better world, we can’t forge it in blood.”

Trevor sighs. “Silvers would never show us the same mercy. They want to wipe us out. They’d kill all Reds, if they didn’t need us.”

“And you say you’re not like them,” Alfredo comments.

“You’re right, Fredo. In an ideal world, I wouldn’t want anybody to die. I don’t want to fight. Hell, I’m scared to death at the thought. But this isn’t an ideal world. You should know that better than most. The Silvers are going to come for us, and they’re going to throw everything they have. They don’t want a peaceful revolution, they’ll want war! And if by some miracle we win, you think they’ll all fall nicely into place? Live side-by-side with the Reds they’ve spat on their whole lives?”

“And so we beat them into submission, just like they did us,” Alfredo says, “Until somebody bigger comes along and beats us back down, and again, and again, the cycle repeats, getting bloodier and bloodier…”

“They won’t stay,” Trevor says. “They’ll flee into exile, try to build armies with their foreign allies. We have a hell of a fight coming for just eight freak Reds.”

“You’d hope we’ll have some allies by then, too.”

“One can only hope. But… that’s a future problem.” Trevor jumps to his feet and stretches. “Come on, Fredo, train with me. Geoff says you’re learning fast. Hey, if you beat me, I’ll give you some tips on how to beat Gavin later.”

“A lot of people saw Alfredo’s powers, it seems. A lot of people who know he’s Red.” Jack says. “It added a lot of fuel to the rumours. They’ve reached the border of Aveond. Reports say Reds were tortured in the streets for suggesting Reds could be more powerful than Silvers. Guards didn’t seem to like the jibe.”

Geoff stares at the map of the kingdom. Jack had placed counters everywhere knowledge of their existence appeared to spread. There were far too many.

“There are talks of a rebellion,” Jack adds. “Reds are getting bold. Some of them think we’re waiting to help them. We need to act now before they take matters into their own hands. If Silvers believe these rumours, they won’t hold back.”

“They’ll believe them,” Geoff sighs. “The ones that matter will, anyway.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

Geoff studies the map before settling on a spot. He points it out and says, “This is where the majority of the capital’s electricity is produced. If we take that out, it’ll hinder almost everything – transport, communication, production, even the military. It’s a safe way to let Reds know that the rumours are true without completely outing ourselves.”

“And how would we take it out?”

“It’s just a field of solar panels – probably not well guarded. Let Matt and Jeremy go – it should let Jeremy burn some steam.”

“How soon?”

“A few days? I want to run it by the others first. Once the power’s out, I want to see if I can get one of us into court. A convincing actor, unassuming, and somebody who can defend themselves. I’ve been thinking Gavin.”

“That would be dangerous work. If he were found out…” Jack begins, but trails off.

“He won’t be. Even without his abilities, I’m convinced Gavin can weasel his way out of anything. I wouldn’t ask him if I didn’t think it was vital, Jack, and I won’t send him if he doesn’t agree to it.”

“He will.”

Geoff jumps and turns. Gavin is stood leaning against the doorway, smiling a mischievous smile. “I’ve been wondering when the hell I’ll get out of here again.”

“You’re certain? You feel prepared?” Geoff asks.

“There’s not much more you can teach me here. I can handle a few Silvers, if they even pay enough attention to suspect me.”

“That’s what I’m banking on. Fetch Matt and Jeremy, won’t you?”

“I’ll be right on it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Matt slams on Geoff’s door repeatedly, and he doesn’t hold up until the healer swings the door open. His eyes are barely open, and he has a scowl on his face. From their rooms, Trevor and Jeremy also peak out.

“It is 3am. This better be good,” Geoff grunts.

“There’s a woman outside!”

That piques Geoff’s interest enough to stop him slamming the door in Matt’s face. “A woman?”

“Red or Silver?” Jeremy asks.

“I don’t know, the light wasn’t good.”

“Says the Shadow,” Trevor chuckles.

“Ha ha. I didn’t want to tip her off. This place is supposed to be abandoned, remember?”

“Where is she?” Geoff asks.

“North entrance. She’s kinda just waiting.”

“Then she knows someone’s here,” Geoff says. He growls, closes the door, and returns moments later with a dressing gown and slippers on. “Show me.”

“We’re coming too!” Trevor insists. He doesn’t even bother changing from his pyjama bottoms, and Geoff is beyond caring.

Matt illuminates the corridors on the way down towards the north entrance, but keeps himself and those following him shrouded in shadow just to be safe. When they reach the front door, he casts the light away and hides.

Trevor and Jeremy position themselves on either side of the door, and they nod to Geoff. Geoff unlocks the door tentatively, and slowly draws it open.

A woman shoves it open fully, knocking Geoff to the ground. She doesn’t even pause and continues walking. In the moonlight, it is difficult to make out any features, especially since she wears a cloak and a hood over her head.

“HEY!” Jeremy shouts. He dives after her and grabs her wrist.

The woman pauses, and then glances back. Her eyes are shockingly blue, her hair long, curly and blonde, and her skin pale. She’s a Silver. And her lips, a deep red thanks to what Jeremy can only assume is makeup, pull up in a small smirk.

“You won’t do it,” she says.

“Do what?” Jeremy snaps.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Oblivion.”

Jeremy is so surprised he lets the woman go. She smirks again and keeps walking, only pausing again when Matt blacks out the room.

“Who the hell are you?” Trevor asks, keeping his voice calm and confident like a Silver would. In reality, the woman terrifies him.

“Relax, Red, I’m not here to hurt any of you. I’m here seeking refuge, the same as you.”

“Refuge denied,” Geoff snaps, dragging himself to his feet. “Leave.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather I turn you all over to the king? Shadow, give me my sight back,” she commands.

“Are you threatening us?” Geoff demands.

“I said: Shadow, give me my sight back!” she shouts. Lights flood back into the building, and Matt shudders and splutters in fear.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Jeremy growls, rushing to Matt’s side to comfort him.

“You’re a Whisper,” Trevor realises.

“Whisper?” Geoff asks.

“An rare type of Silver, but incredibly powerful. I’ve only seen them once. Whispers can read minds, and, to an extent, control minds.”

The woman smiles at him. “Someone’s done their homework.”

“So that’s how you found us,” Geoff says, “You read someone’s mind?”

“I didn’t believe it until I came here. Really, they just reminded me that this place exists. Good to see you Reds are finally catching up – I’ve been waiting for someone to stick it to ‘em for a while.”

“Does anybody else know? Or know that you came here?” Geoff says.

“I don’t think you understand, Geoff, I’m on the run.”

“And why would a Silver be on the run?” Jeremy asks.

“The same reason you’re hiding out here. I’m not what I’m supposed to be.”

“How so?”

“I’m not obedient.” The woman looks over them. “For all your vulnerabilities and hardships, at least Reds are free.”

Geoff laughs. “Free?! We work your land until we die, either from old age or until one of you kills us!”

“That’s still freer than I ever was! You think the Silvers grew a soft spot for their own kind just because we’re not Reds? This world is unkind and merciless to all, regardless of blood! I don’t think there’s a man nor woman on this Earth who’s happy with their lot. Certainly not in this kingdom!”

“My heart bleeds for you. Truly,” Geoff growls.

“I don’t want your damn sympathy, just your secrecy. Where are the bedrooms? I’ll take a vacant one, and preferably one far from anybody who snores.”

“Not a chance! Matt, fetch Jack. Trev, Jeremy, help me get this one down to the cells.”

The woman doesn’t struggle against them – she seems to have been expecting this. Jeremy pushes her into her cell just as Jack arrives, also in pyjama bottoms. He sees the woman and gives Geoff a horrified look as Jeremy locks her in and tucks the key away.

“Silvers know we’re here?” he asks Geoff.

“Just this one, we think. Thought you'd want to know. Apparently, she reads minds.”

“Reads minds? Ah, wonderful, yeah, that’s great.”

“So what do we do about it?” Trevor asks.

“‘It’ has a name,” the Silver says, “And ‘it’ can hear you.”

“We’re well aware of that fact,” Geoff retorts.

‘It’s Barbara, by the way,’ they hear her voice echo around in their minds. The Reds jump, and in her cell, Barbara smirks. “I can do that, too. You didn’t know about that part, did you Trevor?” She paces to the bars and leans against them, smiling at Trevor’s terrified stare. “That’s alright, I can forgive you for that. It’s not obvious to outsiders and the Red education doesn’t really cover Silver marvels, does it?”

“Hey! Leave the kid alone,” Geoff demands.

“I can be useful to you,” Barbara says. “I know the Silvers. I know their court. I know their weaknesses. I know more than you Reds could ever learn in a lifetime on your own. And I know real intimate details, if you know what I mean.”

“You fucking terrify me,” Jeremy says simply. Barbara shoots him an innocent smile.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do,” Geoff says. “You stay here. If a Silver army doesn’t descend on our heads within the week, maybe I’ll let you out. Maybe. If not, the first thing I’ll do is send someone down here to kill you. Preferably our Burner.”

“Deal. At least you’re cautious. I suppose that’s the best I can hope for.”

Geoff nods. “We’ll send food down in the morning. The rest of you – bed. We’ll discuss this with the others over breakfast.”

“She was on the news this morning,” Geoff groans over his breakfast, “She’s a Silver from a common family, but she was going to marry some young baron above her name thanks to some favour her father did him.”

“And do they know where she went? How long she’s been missing?” Jack asks.

“They say she was last seen heading to bed last night. Silvers are reporting that she was snatched by Red bandits.”

Jeremy laughs as he eats. “What kind of crazy Reds would snatch her of all Silvers?”

“Us, apparently,” Trevor murmurs.

“Do you trust what she said to you?” Jack asks Geoff.

Geoff sighs. “I do. I don’t like her, but I believe her.”

“So what do we do?” Trevor asks

“Ransom her back to the Silvers?” Jeremy suggests.

“No.”

“Run?” Alfredo says.

“That’s not a plan, that’s a last resort,” Geoff says.

“There’s nothing else to do, Geoff!” Jack snaps. “Either we trust her and let her stay, or we let her go or ransom her back and the Silvers come for us.”

“I already said I trust her,” Geoff reminds him.

“Yeah, for now. What if she starts giving bad vibes later, or she decides that, actually, life in the palaces is nicer? She can turn coats and run at any moment. In fact, it’s what Silver nobles are known for!”

“Then we need to offer her something,” Gavin says. “She needs something to stay for. Something the Silvers can’t or won’t give her.”

“The Silvers can give her anything.”

“Anything with a monetary value, yes!”

“So what do we give her, Gav?” Jeremy asks.

“Oh, I don’t know, that was my contribution.”

Trevor hits the table. “We know what she wants. She wants freedom.”

“You want to give a mind controlling Silver freedom?!” Alfredo asks.

“Not immediately, but it’s something we can toy with.” 

“You don’t toy with a mind reader, Trev.”

“She’ll know we’re serious about giving her this, because we are. We need to make it clear that if she stays here, we’ll cover her for as long as we can. As long as we stay hidden, no marriage for her. We need to let her roam, too, and train with us.”

“I hate this,” Jeremy says.

Trevor shrugs. “No matter what we do, we’ll hate it."

“Has anyone considered the easy way out of this?” Michael asks. When all eyes turn to him, he shrugs as if it’s obvious. “Poison her? Overdose her on medication? Let Jeremy shake hands with her? Hell, let her starve or die of thirst?”

Trevor shakes his head. “We’re not Silvers, Michael. We’re not killing anybody unnecessarily.”

“I’m with Michael,” Geoff says.

“You can’t be serious. What happened to trusting her?!” Trevor demands.

“I trust her for now! But Jack’s right – there’s no other option that doesn’t run the risk of her changing her mind and running straight back to the Silvers with everything – our abilities, our strengths, our weaknesses, our fears, our location, even our thoughts! This one is too dangerous to let her out of that cell. And there’s no dignity or sense in leaving her in that cell for who knows how long until she either escapes or we have to run anyway.”

“You’re talking about murdering a woman you’ve met once, and as far as we’re aware has never hurt anybody.”

“I doubt that.”

“This isn’t just, Geoff! We’re not at war yet!”

“No, we are, the Silvers just don’t know it yet. We have been at war since the two bloods split, since Silvers first enslaved and slaughtered our kind. For the first time in history, we finally have a way to fight back, but not if this woman hands us over to the Silvers. If we fail, Reds will suffer for centuries or millennia longer. I don’t like it any more than you do. Believe me, Trevor, it breaks my heart. But it’s necessary. You know it’s necessary.”

Geoff’s eyes are sincere, and truly pained. He doesn’t lie about the hurt his decision causes him. Trevor sits back, refusing to break eye contact with Geoff. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” he says.

“I can make it quick,” Geoff says. “I’ll do it as she sleeps. She’ll feel no pain.”

“No. No! I won’t let you kill her!” Trevor rises from his seat, and the air dries as any water vapour condenses into streams of water that Trevor pulls close. Michael rises to the challenge immediately, with one of his fists bursting into flame. The rest of the table backs away.

“Is she in your head or something?!” Michael snarls.

“Michael, no,” Geoff says calmly.

“What? I’m not the one defending a Silver.”

“An innocent!” Trevor snaps back.

“Both of you, enough! A Silver is the last thing we should be infighting over.”

“Tell me you won’t kill her, Geoff, and I’ll stand down,” Trevor demands.

Alfredo joins Trevor, though he doesn’t summon the wind or otherwise threaten Michael or Geoff. “I think Trev’s right, it doesn’t feel right to me.”

“She can’t be in both of our heads, Geoff. Please, we’re not murderers – we’re better than them, aren’t we?”

Geoff huffs, nods and gestures to Michael. Michael reluctantly lets the fire burn into nothingness. “I won’t execute her,” Geoff says, “Until she betrays us. After that, you won’t change my mind.”

“I won’t try to,” Trevor says.

“You’ll take her food down to her too, Trevor. If anybody needs me, you’ll find me in the surveillance room,” Geoff announces as he leaves the conference room.

Michael follows, but halts beside Trevor, whispering, “Every Red she hurts or kills from now on, their blood is on your hands as much as hers. I hope you’re right about her, Collins.”


	8. Chapter 8

Barbara sits up straight and sorts her hair as two Reds approach her cell. She knows which based on their thoughts alone. One is Trevor, the Nymph, and the other is one that is new to her – a young male with a combat-oriented elemental marvel. Both are nervous, and Trevor is also angry. 

“Good morning, boys,” she says sweetly, smiling as they come into view. “Trevor, Alfredo. Has anybody ever told you you look similar?”

“No mind tricks,” Trevor says, sliding a bowl through the bars for her. “We need information.”

“It was nice of you both to stick up for me at breakfast, but it’s really not necessary. Without a majority willing to carry it out, you Reds wouldn’t be able to execute me. Michael seems quite… malleable.”

“Nobody’s going to execute you. Not as long as you don’t cause us trouble. You know we’re honest,” Trevor says.

Barbara stands and paces to the bars, keeping eye contact with Trevor. “I could make the Windweaver kill you here and now.”

“You won’t.”

“But I could,” Barbara says. “I’ve seen how they do it. The worst ones. They coax the air out of your lungs. You suffocate in open air. Your lungs collapse in on you. It's a horrid death. This one here probably wouldn’t need to give it much more than a thought.” She shoots Alfredo a smirk, and grins as his discomfort and fear.

“Are you done playing?” Trevor asks.

She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to Trevor. “What information do you need?”

“What do the Silvers know about us?”

“More than I could tell you, probably. They know you’re real. Whether they know about this place, or any of you individually, I couldn’t tell you. Not without getting close and getting in their heads again.”

“Can we infiltrate their court?” Trevor asks.

“Sure. If you can avoid the Whispers, that is. Oh, and only by posing as Red servants. I mean no offense, but not one of you I’ve met so far could ever pass for a Silver noble, even if your blood did turn silver. There’s a servants’ entrance to the summer palace in the capital on the east side. They check ID cards, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you. Reds come and go through it near constantly, so nobody should bat an eye at a few extra Reds going through.”

Trevor narrows his eyes. “And what about you? What do you want? What’s your big plan? You came to us to avoid your betrothal – congratulations, you’re not getting married here. But what's your long game? You don’t want to live with freak Reds for the rest of your life.”

Barbara shrugs. “Perhaps I do. Perhaps, if your fight goes well, I’ll stick around to watch them get what’s coming to them. If not, perhaps I’ll leave the kingdom. You never know, maybe I’ll become one of those bandits you hear about in the west.”

“Bandits?! Just going to stroll up and ask to join the gang?” Trevor asks.

“Oh, I can be quite persuasive. And at the very least, they can offer me an exciting life.”

Trevor raises an eyebrow at her smirk. “Is… that a joke?”

“Your surprise hurts, Trevor. Anything else I can help you boys with?”

Trevor sighs and shakes his head, then begins to leave. “Come on, Fredo.”

“Wait, wait!” Barbara calls, “I helped you! Let me out?”

Trevor spins on his heels and faces her as he continues to walk backwards. He calls back: “Nope, you threatened to kill me just now. Geoff says a week; you’re staying in there a week. I’ll see you tonight, Barbara.”

“Hey, it was a joke! Nymph!”

Jeremy is almost asleep at his post in the security room when the the old radio beside him interrupts the dull music to announce ‘breaking news’. “This morning, we received reports of a rumoured Red uprising in Baron Locke’s lands. Unfortunately, those rumours proved to be true. Spurred on by the falsified reports of Red civilians with the gifts of Silvers, the misguided population appears to be in full revolt, beginning in the sleepy village of Burron, the origin of some of these rumours. We are not yet aware of the number of Silver casualties, if any. Baron Locke has deployed his men and has even valiantly decided to help quell the uprising himself. We will update when further details arise.”

“Oh no…” Jeremy murmurs, before he sprints out of the room. “ALFREDO!”

He sprints down the corridor before slamming on the Windweaver’s door repeatedly. “Fredo! Alfredo, you in there?!”

The door swings open, as well as Trevor’s next door and Jack’s a few doors down. Before anyone can ask what is going on, Jeremy grabs Alfredo’s shoulders. “Your village started an uprising. Locke’s on his way personally to end it.”

Alfredo’s jaw drops, before he splutters, “How? Burron? Are you sure? Why would they…?”

“Because of you, Alfredo! They know you’re a Red!”

“Are they insane?! Locke’s merciless – he’ll destroy everything!”

“Fredo, you need to go, and you need to go now!” Jack says. “Your home needs you, and the world needs to see we’re real and we’re ready to step in and help.”

“I’ll go with you,” Trevor says. “Locke’s the most powerful Silver Nymph in the kingdom. I want to put him down a peg or two.”

“And the woman?” Jeremy worries.

“It’s safe for Matt, Geoff or Gavin to feed her too. You’ll figure it out.”

“Take Geoff with you,” Jack says. “Your people will need him. He should be in the training grounds. Go, now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I've been really busy with uni work recently, so I'm unable to update nearly as often as I have been. I'm aiming for one chapter on at least one of my works per week, and I have more ready to go with this work than I do on my hybrid fic (I'm a little blocked on that one; progress is slow but I'm trying to avoid putting out something badly written or boring so bear with me if you read that work too - I haven't forgotten it and I'm certainly not abandoning it).
> 
> Anyway, remember that fight scene I mentioned in the notes of a really early chapter that I said I was super proud of? That fight scene is the Battle of Burron ;). Whenever the next chapter comes I really hope you all enjoy it, because I had an absolute blast writing it.


	9. Chapter 9

Trevor and Alfredo leap out of the back of the truck as it skids to a halt. The scene before them is one of horror, worse than either could have imagined. Water from the nearby river floods the village, with most structures either partially sunk or completely destroyed already. Screams rise into the air as villagers run, swim and scramble away from the town. Alfredo barely recognises his home.

Alfredo moves to sprint into town and find the Silvers responsible, but Geoff grabs his collar and halts him. He slams the truck door behind him as he says, “No, no, Fredo.”

“What are you doing?! People are dying!”

“Yeah, that’s my business. Trevor, drain the village as much as you can. Alfredo, go with him – keep him safe.”

Trevor nods and sprints towards the river on the east side of what was once the village. Geoff frowns at Alfredo when he doesn’t follow.

“Trevor doesn’t need me! I’ll find Locke! If I take him down, this ends!”

“Absolutely not!” Geoff snaps. “None of us have ever gone up against a Silver noble, and you’ve barely been training for two months! These nobles, they train their whole lives to fight, and this one will have trained against the best Silver Windweavers in the kingdom. You’re not ready, Alfredo.”

“Then I’ll pick off the weaker ones hunting Reds.”

“Alright, fine, whatever you want. Just stay away from the baron. I mean it, Fredo!”

“Away from the baron, yeah, I know,” Alfredo says quickly. He dashes into the waters, dragging Reds to safety as he searches for Silver soldiers. The water is frigid and unstable – a Nymph somewhere is manipulating the waters.

A spluttering woman Alfredo helps out of the filthy waters collapses into his arms. “Thank you,” she cries, shivering, “Thank you.”

“Where’s Locke? Ma’am, where is he?”

The woman looks up, and gasps when she sees his face. She clings tighter. “You’re the one from the market. I remember… Is it true? You’re a Silver with Red blood?”

“I’m a Red,” Alfredo promises, “A Red with Silver abilities.”

She grabs his collar and stares at him with wide eyes. “You need to save us! If you are one of us, help us!”

“Tell me where Locke is, and I will.”

“…The Silvers, they were destroying the town hall.”

“Town hall, alright. Get yourself to safety, there’s a village a few miles north of here – they’ll help you.”

The woman scrambles past him, nodding and thanking him. Alfredo sets his eyes on the crumbling clock-tower of town hall. He takes a run up, whips up a wind and launches himself to the closest stable rooftop. The people below him cry out and run – believing him to be another merciless Silver, but he doesn’t let it get to him. He’ll prove his innocence when Locke pays. He launches himself again, carrying himself safely to the next platform, and the next, until he stands over the market square.

The stalls are destroyed by the raging floods, unsurprisingly, and the town hall is on the verge of collapse itself. Multiple bodies float unmoving in the water that floods the market. One of them, Alfredo swears, is Annabel, the kind old woman he’d stepped up to defend that day in the market. His heart sinks, and he hopes that at the very least her death was quick.

The waters are mostly still for now, but a Silver guard waits outside the town hall’s door. Locke must be inside, though why is uncertain.

Alfredo spots somebody moving in the water, however. Creeping towards the guard, sometimes overwater, sometimes underwater. They’re not Silver, and whatever they’re doing is beyond stupid.

When their head next comes up for a breath, Alfredo’s heart thumps. The Red raises a blade and tries to attack the Silver guard from the back. It won’t end well.

“No, don’t!” Alfredo cries, and as the Silver and the Red turn their heads towards him, he launches at them. As he does, he weaves a gust that he throws at the Silver who doesn’t have time to respond before it hits him, launching him back into the crumbling structure before he falls into the water.

Alfredo lands where the Silver once was, with the flood-water up to his abdomen. He checks the floating body. “Not dead,” he comments, “Not getting back up any time soon.” He takes a deep breath, then turns to face his best friend.

“Alfredo?!” Tim splutters. His eyes are wide, and darting across his body. “You’re…”

“Alive?”

Tim almost sobs, and pulls Alfredo into a tight embrace. “Back. I never thought I’d see you again. I’m so sorry, Fredo.”

“I know. Me too.” He pulls back and looks Tim sternly in the eye. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was?!”

“Well, apparently I have a guardian angel.”

“He would have drowned you on the spot. What were you thinking?!”

“They were going to kill us all anyway – I thought I had to at least try.”

“You’re an idiot, and we’re going to talk about this later. Go – there’s a friendly healer on the north side of town. Find him, wait for me there.”

“What do you mean? Wait, you’re not going in there alone, are you? Fredo, the baron is in there! You don’t stand a chance – he’s…”

“The strongest Nymph in the kingdom, yeah, I’ve heard. I think you’ll find the strongest Nymph in the kingdom is actually by the river trying to fix this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No time to explain. Go, Tim, I’ll find you later and explain everything.”

“I’m not going to let you walk in there alone,” Tim snaps.

Alfredo raises a hand and summons a small breeze around it. “I can make you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A threat wouldn’t be for your own good. If you want to help, help people escape, or find the Red Nymph and tell him where Locke is.”

“Red Nymph?”

“He’s like me. Down by the river – you’ll know him when you see him.”

Tim frowns, but nods, defeated. “Be careful. I’ll be back as soon as I can with this Red Nymph.” He pats Alfredo’s arms and dives into the water, crawling towards the river.

Alfredo watches him go, ensuring his safety until he is out of sight. Once he is gone, Alfredo grabs an uneven stone in the town hall’s wall, pushes his legs against the wall and heaves himself up, until he is high enough to summon a wind to launch him higher, safely out of the water. He grabs the window of a second-storey room and weaves the gust into the glass, shattering it inwards. He pulls himself up, breaking off any remaining shards of glass with his arm, and pulls himself inside. He grunts when a shard of glass on the floor grazes his arm, letting a stream of red trickle out and run down his arm. Still, he doesn’t wipe it off. People should see the colour of his blood when he tears Locke down.

The Silver that comes to investigate the noise catches Alfredo off-guard, still dragging himself to his feet. He chuckles, and shouts to somebody in the corridor: “Just a Red. I’ll deal with it.”

“Like hell!” Alfredo snarls, drawing the air in the room behind him before throwing it at the Silver.

Now it is their turn to be unprepared, and their eyes widen as the wind almost sweeps them off their feet. Almost. The Silver’s hand grabs the doorframe, and it shatters beneath the force at which he does. His feet ground themselves, and then he is a solid, immovable force.

Still, even as Alfredo’s stomach drops when he realises he may have found a Silver resistant to his abilities, he does feel a pang of pride at the fear in their eyes. “Impossible…” the Silver splutters. “They’re real!”

“What in the world are you blabbering on about?!” somebody behind him growls. The Silver guard is shoved aside as another man enters. This one is easily a decade younger than the guard, but older than Alfredo for certain. Tall, too, with short brown hair. His clothes, while evidently militaristic in style, are not the usual white and black of the Silver uniform. Rather, they are blue, and adorned with medals. His bright blue eyes give Alfredo a once-over, and he almost laughs.

“So it is true?” he says. “A Red, with a Silver marvel. Fascinating.”

“You’re Locke,” Alfredo says.

“That’s Baron Locke to you. Or ‘my lord’, whatever you prefer. And you,” Locke says in an accusatory tone, “Diaz, right?”

Alfredo flinches, but maintains eye contact. He says nothing.

“I thought so. I just read the files we have on you. Alfredo Diaz, born on the eleventh day of May 498. Lived in Urwood until your parents died, and then you were brought here.”

“My parents didn’t just die, your father fucking murdered them!”

“Official reports say my father enacted the King’s justice.”

“Justice?! It was genocide!”

“Take it up with someone who cares. Report says you haven’t paid the king’s tax since last April. Two days before it was due, the first ludicrous rumours of a gifted Red appear. Next thing I know, Reds start thinking there’s someone out there waiting to support an uprising.”

“So they started an uprising, and now, here I am,” Alfredo says, weaving the air around his fingers.

Locke smirks. “You’re a Windweaver.”

“What are we waiting for?” Alfredo asks. “Why not kill me now?”

“I’m thinking. I could kill you, or I could turn you over to the king. Perhaps there’s more to learn from you alive.”

“How about we take this outside?”

“You realise that plays into my hand, right? There is a lot of water out there.”

“Do you have any idea how little I care?”

Locke laughs and jabs a finger at him. “Confidence! I like you! I think I’ll keep you alive, for now.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Alfredo says. The breeze he weaves through his fingers grows in strength, and he launches it at Locke. The other Silver grabs his lord before he is thrown back hard against the wall – the distraction works long enough for Alfredo to climb onto the windowsill and jump.

As he falls, he weaves a gust to catch him – just in time, too, as the water moulds itself unnaturally and rises to meet him. Before it can, Alfredo throws himself backwards, and he lands on the crumbling roof of the town hall.

It doesn’t take long for Locke to rise to meet him, spurred upwards by a jet of water. He lands gracefully and flicks his hand. The water soaking his clothes retreats, and he dusts his newly-dried trousers off. “You’re quite powerful,” Locke comments. “I suppose you’d have to be to even consider taking me on. I’m the…”

“Don’t fucking say it,” Alfredo growls.

“I’m liking you a little bit less now,” Locke says. He raises his arms, and a wall of water rises to surround the town hall. “Shall we?”

Now it’s Alfredo’s turn to smirk as he holds his arm out before him and makes horizontal circles in the air. The wind leaps into motion, spinning around them faster and faster as Alfredo’s motions speed up, until the two stand inside a small hurricane within the wall of water.

Alfredo savours the look of fear on Locke’s face. For the first time in perhaps his whole life, Locke might be thinking about the prospect of defeat. At the hands of a Red, no less.

Alfredo feels the force against the wind as the water lashes into it from the outside. Some of it sprays through, but most of it is simply thrown straight back out by the sheer force of the hurricane. He can’t help but smirk at Locke as he draws the winds in closer and closer. He shouldn’t play with or threaten the baron, but the satisfaction of finally making a Silver feel as helpless as a Red does is too great to not savour.

Locke’s face turns almost ghostly white as he rages. His hand launches out and he grabs at the air, and Alfredo halts immediately. The hurricane dissipates as he crumples to the ground, clutching his head as the worst pain he could imagine strikes. Along with it, his strength vanishes. He feels feint. He can’t see. He can’t breathe.

Locke is manipulating the water inside him.

“I’ve heard that’s not pleasant,” Locke says, strutting towards him. He grabs Alfredo’s jaw, yanks his head up, and kneels to meet his eyes. “You might have a Silver’s marvel, but you’re still just a Red. You’re dirt, worthless, nothing. You’ll never best me. Now, you’ll answer to the king, when I’m done here.”

The water around the town hall lurches to life, drawing back, before it collapses inwards and slams hard into it. The crumbling walls are no match for the force of the waves, and the structure collapses. Locke is thrown off balance, and, distracted, he lets go of his control over Alfredo. As the water floods back into his system, he gasps for much-needed breaths. The relief is near immediate, but it doesn’t last long, as he slips from the roof into the waters.


	10. Chapter 10

“Up there, he’s up there!” Tim shouts, pointing to the rising water and the hurricane forming on the roof of the town hall. Trevor can’t see anyone inside it, but Alfredo is the only explanation.

Trevor pulls himself out of the flood water and onto the closest stable structure before he drags Tim up beside him. They watch as the water lashes at the hurricane, but it can’t break through.

But then, the hurricane weakens and vanishes in seconds. Alfredo is crumpled on the roof in very visible agony. His skin is pale and his muscles shake in very clear effort just to keep him from collapsing entirely. Locke grabs him.

“What’s happening? What’s he doing?!” Tim asks Trevor.

“Something sickening,” Trevor says. “Stay back.”

“What?” Tim asks. Trevor doesn’t respond, reaching out to the floodwater of the market square. He pulls it back, raising it high, and then drives it into the town hall. It shatters beneath his force.

Locke falls backwards but manages to dive off the roof in time. Alfredo tries to recover, but he’s too slow and crashes with the roof into the water.

“FREDO!” Tim cries.

“No, don’t!” Trevor tries to grab Tim, but he’s too slow. Tim dives into the water, swimming for where Alfredo went under. “Idiot!” Trevor mumbles.

A pair of arms grab him and hoist him to the surface. Alfredo gasps at the air, struggling to keep hold of whoever saved him and keep his head above water. He splutters up some of the water in his lungs and gasps again.

“Fredo! Fredo, relax, I got you!”

“Tim…” he moans. 

“I’m here, I got you. Breathe.”

“Where’s Locke?!”

“Somewhere in the water, we don’t know. The Red Nymph’s over there, he’s…”

“TREVOR?!” Alfredo’s eyes go wide. He grabs Tim’s shoulders and pulls back to see his face. “Trevor and Locke are both here?!”

“Yeah.”

“You mean to tell me that the two most powerful Nymphs in the entire kingdom are about to fight and WE ARE IN THE WATER?!”

Tim’s skin grows pale. “Shit…”

Alfredo shoves him away with what little strength he has towards the roof of a nearby building, now barely above the water level. “Move! Go!”

Trevor can feel Locke’s influence on the water. He’s trying to raise a storm. Whether he knows that Alfredo and Tim are somewhere in the water is unknown – there are plenty of drowned bodies in the water, two more bodies shouldn’t be noticeable. What Locke must know, however, is that there’s another Nymph, and not a friendly one. It shouldn’t be hard for Locke to put two and two together.

Trevor holds his hands out, calming the waters. They resist him, but ultimately, his will wins out. He can’t see Alfredo or Tim, but it’s too soon for them to have escaped.

He jumps, however, when he hears somebody’s hand slam onto the roof he stands on. Trevor watches as the Nymph baron drags his body onto the roof. He’s furious, and this is clearly the first time in his life that the waters haven’t been there to save him. He even spits some up.

‘The baron can’t swim,’ Trevor realises. ‘At least, not very well.’ Trevor calls to the waters, and they rise behind him. It’s just a threat, for now – if Locke still wants to fight, he’ll give him a fair fight.

Locke drags himself to his feet. “Let me guess,” he snarls, “Red?” Trevor nods once, and the baron almost growls. “Water is pure and powerful. It should never answer to a Red. It’s unnatural.”

“I’m stronger,” Trevor says calmly. “If you surrender, we won’t harm you. Call your men off; you will receive a fair trial.”

At that, the baron laughs. “Trial?! I rule these lands – who will try me?!”

“Your subjects.”

“You mean the Reds, no doubt. What do you know of justice?”

“We know we deserve it. The people you murdered deserve it. And not just Reds – Silver subjects too.”

“What mercy – you Red rats outnumber us one hundred to one.”

Locke is growing more and more agitated – it won’t be long before he chooses to fight. ‘Get out, Fredo,’ Trevor thinks, ‘Get out of the water!’

“I know you care more about your pride than your life,” Trevor says slowly. “Don’t make me subdue you. I could drown you. Don’t be the first Nymph lord to drown.”

“Drown me? No Red can drown me! No Red…!”

Locke is interrupted by the wind moving softly, drawing into a small hurricane somewhere on the other side of the remains of the town hall. It doesn’t last long, and it wasn’t a hurricane summoned in either defence or offence. Alfredo is letting Trevor know he’s safe, and Trevor beams to see it.

A slam to the jaw suddenly knocks Trevor off-balance and almost into the water. With his concentration broken, the water he raised begins to fall again until he catches it just before it can crash over him. He places a hand to his jaw – it was a hell of a punch and the skin is tender – that’ll hurt later if Geoff doesn’t see to it.

The corner of his eye catches another punch coming for his stomach. He manages to reel just enough for it to hit his hip again. It still hurts, but he’s not winded, and manages to maintain enough concentration to bring the water down on Locke.

The baron reaches up to command the water and it slows. Trevor grunts at the effort, but he manages to force his will over the water, and it crashes over them.

It provides a few precious seconds of relief for Trevor to focus. Locke knows he can’t win by brute power, but he’s a well-built man – Trevor, while tall, is slim and unthreatening in appearance. He’ll never win a fist-fight, so he won’t let it resort to one.

He dives off the roof into the water, summoning a wave as he does to carry him across the square where it spits him out onto a different structure – the remnants of a wall, he thinks. From here, he can see Tim and Alfredo a short way away, huddled together for both warmth and support while Alfredo recovers.

Trevor reaches out, keeping an eye on Locke as he does, and summons the water away from both of them, drying them. Tim shudders in shock, but Alfredo immediately searches. When he finds Trevor, Trevor waves his arm, signalling for them to get away. Alfredo nods once, and with Tim’s support, drags himself to his feet and launches them both into the air, towards the edge of the village.

“Why run?” Locke shouts. “Come here and face me, Red!”

Trevor shakes his head. “Don’t make me do this! You’ll drown before I do!”

Locke roars as his hand reaches out and grabs the air. Trevor shudders as his body grows weak instantaneously. As he collapses onto a knee, he growls, “No!” to the water escaping his cells, halting it. In response, he summons the waters between him and Locke. Angered by Locke’s attempt to give him the same horrific death he tried to give Alfredo and succeeded in giving to so many other Reds, his strength seems to only grow. “So be it then,” he spits, “Drown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nymph Trevor's pretty awesome, I think.
> 
> Anyway, as I posted in an update on my other work, I'm at a busy point in my life and updates are going to be scarce for the next month or so. Lucky for this work, I have written a few chapters ahead so it shouldn't affect it too much, but if I do end up going two weeks or more without an update in the near future, rest assured I am not abandoning my work, I'm just suffering terribly at the hands of my university.
> 
> Feel free to comment and tell me what you think about the fic so far, both good and bad. Comments are a great dopamine hit and they really motivate me.


	11. Chapter 11

“Ma’am, don’t worry, you’re safe now,” Geoff says in his practised soothing voice. He lays his hand slowly and carefully onto the young woman’s arm and wills her bone to knit itself back together.

She gasps through her tears, and when her arm is as good as new, she bursts into tears again and hugs Geoff tightly. “You’re real…” she sobs. “You’re a miracle.”

“I’m just doing what I can to help. Go north, there’s a safe village a few miles away. We’ll be on our way once we’re done here. If you see anybody else from your village, direct them there, alright?”

The young woman bobs her head, thanks him wholeheartedly and heads back to the road. Geoff directs a few other passing Reds north with her.

“Hey! Hey!”

Geoff turns at the unfamiliar voice. He sees two men running towards him, with one essentially dragging the other. That ‘other’ man is Alfredo, looking pale and sickly. The first is a Red he’s never seen before.

“Fredo?!”

The men stop before him, and Alfredo all but collapses on top of him. “Hey, Geoff,” Alfredo says. His voice is hoarse and quiet.

“What happened to you?”

“I don’t know. Locke did something.”

“The fight with the baron didn’t go quite as you anticipated, did it? If only somebody had perhaps suggested the outcome of the fight before you picked it,” Geoff says, to which Alfredo can only groan. Geoff lays a hand on Alfredo’s cheek and gasps. “You’re in bad shape,” he says. “Dehydrated to hell, man. Seems like there’s damage to your lungs too.”

Alfredo sighs as the warm, relaxing sensation of Geoff’s ability bleeds through him. “I could have carried on,” he murmurs.

“Fredo, you almost drowned,” the other Red says.

“Didn’t.”

“Would have if the Red Nymph and I didn’t save your ass.”

“Trevor… Alfredo, where’s Trevor?!”

A scream answers him. A Red girl on the road cries and points to the centre of the village, where unnatural waves rise and lash at each other like an ocean in a storm. The residual waves crash through the rest of Burron, destroying what remaining structures stand.

The wind around them whips to life, and Geoff barely reacts in time to grab Alfredo. “No!”

“Geoff, I can help!”

“No, Fredo, you’re done. Let me fix you up. Don’t make me restrain you.”

“If you go under this time, I won’t be there to drag you out,” the other Red says. “You’ll just complicate things for the Red Nymph. I saw what he can do – he’s got this.”

Alfredo watches the water rise in a great cyclone and realises that all this time Trevor really had been holding back. The waves that crash against it are merely absorbed, and the waters lash outward at what is clearly a very mobile opponent.

He huffs in defeat. “Lie down here,” Geoff says. “And lift your shirt – I need to check your lungs out.”

Alfredo complies, somewhat reluctantly, and as Geoff gets to work he asks, “Where’s the other Silvers? Locke’s forces?”

“Seems you and Trev gave them a real scare. They fell back a while ago.”

“They’re going to retaliate,” the other Red says, watching the distant waters destroy his village. “Regardless of whether your Red Nymph kills Locke, they’ll come for us.”

“We know,” Geoff says.

“What’s your plan?” the other Red asks.

“No plan, Tim,” Alfredo says. “We heard Locke was attacking Burron, and we came to try save it.”

“We need to start evacuating Reds,” Geoff says, thinking out loud, mostly. “Recruit some willing soldiers, if we can, and evacuate the others out of Locke’s lands. I’ll call the others for backup. We’ll round up some trucks and get people out of here. Fredo, take a deep breath.” Alfredo obeys, and Geoff nods. “Good. Stay horizontal and breathe for a while, alright? When we get back to the truck, I’ll get you some clean water to drink.”

“You’re building an army?” Tim asks.

“We’re good, but we’re not good enough to dismantle the Silvers’ grip on the kingdom alone. We need support, and if there are Reds willing to fight alongside us, we’ll take it.”

“I’ll join.”

“No,” Alfredo says immediately. “Vetoed. Geoff, ignore him.”

“You don’t get to make decisions for me because you got shiny new powers, Fredo,” Tim snaps. “Why should I sit out when you’re leading the charge?”

“This isn’t about my powers! You have a family! One that doesn’t want to see you burnt to a crisp or shredded or obliterated on a battleground!”

“We run that risk every day anyway!”

“Enough!” Geoff commands. “We’ll talk about this later.”

A crash grabs their attention, and they watch as the waters finally fall to the earth and still. The last remnants of the conflict wash up at the edge of the village.

Geoff stands and watches the water-line. Towards the eastern side of the village, a dark-clothed figure drags a blue-clothed figure out of the water. Trevor kneels over the unmoving body and begins to attempt to resuscitate him. He doesn’t even bother commanding the water that soaks their clothes and hair away.

“Trev!” Geoff calls, and sprints to them, panting as he slides to their sides.

Trevor doesn’t even look to Geoff, he just keeps pumping Locke’s chest in a steady rhythm. “Drowned,” Trevor says, and leans to Locke’s face, blowing a lung-full of air into him.

“You’re saving him?”

“I’m not a killer, Geoff. And he shouldn’t answer to me. He needs to answer to the Reds who lived here.”

“Honourable. Let me help,” Geoff says. Trevor halts, and Geoff unbuttons a button on Locke’s shirt before placing a hand on his chest. Moments later, Locke splutters up water from his lungs. “Don’t struggle,” Geoff says in a monotone fashion, “You’re under arrest for crimes against the people of Aveond.”

“Fucking Reds,” Locke spits.


	12. Chapter 12

While Trevor directs the remaining floodwater back into the river and Geoff and Tim tend to wounded Reds, Alfredo has the pleasure of guarding Locke. His hands are bound in handcuffs unwillingly donated by a Silver guard, yet he could still easily pose a threat. He seethes in silence, never once taking his eyes off Trevor. No doubt he wishes Trevor and Geoff had let him die. Even drowning would be more honourable.

“There were warnings about you,” Locke eventually says through gritted teeth. “In court, we heard about the executions of supposed marvelled Reds. I should have found you and snuffed you out long ago.”

“You should have,” Alfredo agrees simply.

“So who will be my executioner? You? The healer? Will he drown me again? Or will you let the common rats have me?”

“I won’t kill you.”

“Then you disgrace the memory of your family. Why don’t you give them the justice you so clearly crave?”

“Because I can’t. You didn’t kill my family; your father did, and he’s as dead as they are. I’ll let the Reds that you wronged decide what happens to you.”

“My father wasn’t the only Nymph that day though, was he? My uncles and my cousins were there too; many of them live. What about them?”

Alfredo sighs. “What are you trying to achieve? Pissing me off?”

“Not at all, Diaz.”

Geoff returns and notes Trevor’s progress before he addresses Alfredo. “Gavin and Michael are on their way for support, they’re meeting us in Merethorpe. Jeremy and Matt are dealing with something else I asked them to do. Jack’s keeping things going back home.”

“They’re going to drop a small army on us for this, Geoff. Four of us won’t be enough.”

“It doesn’t need to be. We just need you to hold their forces back long enough to get everyone to safety.” Geoff shouts down to the banking where Trevor works. “Trev, that’s good enough. Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

They leave the truck on the outskirts of the village and Tim drags Locke out. He and Geoff, they decided, would lead Locke to the market square where the refugees from Burron and the Merethorpe citizens would be waiting. Their faces would be the most reassuring to those who escaped Burron, they assumed. Trevor and Alfredo trail behind, ready to respond if Locke or any other Silvers try to spring him.

As they pass Reds on their way to the square, most stare in shock. Even if they don’t know his face, his clothes make it plainly obvious who is held captive. But many whisper amongst themselves, and Alfredo is sure he hears the survivors of Burron whisper his name as he passes.

When they enter the square, the commotion falls quieter and quieter the closer to the centre they grow. There is a wooden podium built in the centre – used for announcements or the occasional public execution. Tim and Geoff drag Locke onto the stand and face him towards the densest part of the crowd, which falls deadly silent. Alfredo and Trevor stand just behind them.

Trevor's eyes bore into Locke's back, but he's not paying attention to what he sees - not really. His mind is focused solely on any and all water sources around them, making sure no outside force is enforcing its will upon it. If Locke tries anything, Trevor is ready to neutralise him instantly. 

Tim kicks Locke’s knee, dropping him onto his knees, and shouts to the Reds, turning and making eye contact with as many as he can. “Reds of Burron and Merethorpe, we lost many today. We will never forget what has happened here. But for that great cost, we have been given one of the greatest prizes the kingdom has to offer! Baron Locke kneels before you!”

The Reds roar, shouting and cheering with more zeal than Alfredo or Trevor had ever seen. They truly believe that this is the beginning of their great liberation, and Alfredo can’t blame them.

“They’re going to kill him,” Alfredo murmurs to Trevor. "If it goes to a vote, they'll kill him."

“You going to stop them?”

“It’s their call. What can I do?”

“Probably more than you think,” Trevor says.

Tim’s outreached arms silence the crowd. “Today brought us another blessing, too. Today, my life and the lives of countless others were saved by just three fellow Reds. Three Reds that are the miracle we’ve been waiting centuries for. Reds with Silver powers. We have our weapon to strike back!”

As the crowd roars again. It’s heart-warming for Alfredo, but he can’t shake the feeling that their hope is misplaced. With every second that passes, another battle with the Silvers grows closer. There’s only so many he can defeat.

Trevor notices Alfredo’s frown and pats his shoulder. “Chin up. It’s not going to be often we get any recognition like this.”

Tim steps back to the two and whispers in Alfredo's ear, “They’re your crowd. Show them what you can do.”

Alfredo obliges, raises a hand above his head and traces circles. The wind whips to life and circles the market square. It’s not powerful enough to harm anybody, but its scope is clear enough. This is a powerful Windweaver. Trevor pulls water droplets from the swirling air and arches it over the square like an umbrella of water that he gradually lets evaporate back into the air.

“You’ve come a long way since that day in the market,” Tim says to Alfredo.

“So have you. Since when were you a public speaker?”

“Since Burron is out of a mayor. She died in the flood.” Tim looks to Geoff. “Do you want soldiers?”

“As many as you can manage, but volunteers only,” Geoff says.

Tim nods and turns to the crowds. “Reds! As we speak, the Silvers will be gathering their forces. They will descend on Burron, and when they find nothing they will come here. We will evacuate any children and elderly first, and the rest of you will follow. But we only have two powered Reds capable of combat to defend the evacuation and guard our captive.

“We are asking for brave souls to volunteer to gather whatever weapons can be found in Merethorpe and stand beside Alfredo and Trevor. It is not a favour we ask lightly, and not one we would ask were it not necessary. So let me be the first to announce that I will be the first to volunteer, and I will not leave this town until every last Red has been evacuated safely. Who will stand with me?”

Several Reds, both men and women, old and young alike, roar at Tim’s request. Even children who don’t seem to fully understand the request cheer for him, perhaps swept up in the excitement. Of course, nobody will let them fight.

“Evacuate the children first,” Geoff orders. “Tim, you think you can take stock of the weaponry we have?”

“Won’t be an issue,” Tim confirms.

“Good. Alfredo, you help me evacuate for now. Trevor, you’re on town defences. Find the builders, the blacksmiths, anybody with any talent for construction, and lock this place down as best you can. If you need help lifting something come find Fredo with me. Understand?” Geoff commands. Trevor replies with a curt nod. “Alright. Move now, we don’t know how long we have.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: I have added an archive warning, and this chapter does contain a little gore (no in-depth description but it's there). I'm going to be a little more liberal with that sort of thing from here on out as the stakes get higher. I'll never write anything with the intention of making people uncomfortable but be warned: some injuries and deaths from now on may be quite unpleasant if you're squeamish. Or not, I haven't written them yet, I'm just covering my bases.

Dusk is only an hour or so away when the little jeep rolls to a halt. Behind the wheel, Matt eyes the gates before them and the structures closely. The gates are tall and heavily barbed at the top. The metal looks tough and tightly woven together by skilled Silver Magnetrons – no ordinary Red could ever hope to break through, even if they had specialised tools. And the structures behind the gates? Hundreds, if not thousands of solar panels and generators, all feeding underground to power not only the capital city but also much of the kingdom.

Matt glances to Jeremy in the passenger seat. He has a small smirk on his face, and he rubs his hands slowly. “You want to go in my smart, stealthy way, or your way?” Matt asks.

“Are you kidding me? Let’s make a mess!” Jeremy hops out of the vehicle. Matt rolls his eyes, chuckles and follows. He throws his veil around the two of them, and they leave their jeep hidden barely behind a tree and hurry to the gates.

“This will make me… very happy,” Jeremy beams. He reaches out and very gently places the tip of his index finger against the metal.

The moment contact is made the metal explodes inwards, sending shards rocketing away before them impale within the closest solar panels. What remains of the gate is smoke and a great hole. Jeremy laughs in pure delirium and clambers through.

“And you say the Whisper is terrifying,” Matt murmurs, following Jeremy.

Jeremy turns, shrugs and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He leans against the nearest panel, which explodes at his touch. Matt stumbles back in shock. Jeremy eyes the destruction and says, “Oh dear… That looked expensive. Anyway, you got us covered?”

“I got you covered, not the damn explosion noises,” Matt snaps, gesturing to the smouldering remains of Jeremy’s handiwork.

“Good enough. Try to keep up.”

“They’re on to us! GO!” Matt commands. They bolt back through the wreckage of a solar farm Jeremy had created in roughly the direction of their vehicle. Matt still has them both them covered, but by the footsteps and shouts that follow them, it clearly doesn’t matter.

The ground feels to shift beneath their feet. Matt, who trails just behind Jeremy, catches his foot on something as they run and collapses to the ground. His cover rises and Jeremy skids to a halt and watch as vines crawl out of the earth to wrap around Matt’s legs, arms and throat. There’s a Silver man a few paces behind him manipulating the plants.

“MATT!”

“GO!” Matt chokes as the vine at his neck tightens.

Of course, Jeremy doesn’t listen to him and charges the Silver. A few plants crawl out of the earth reaching for Jeremy’s legs, but he merely stamps on them as he runs.

Jeremy barrels into the Silver and starts throwing punches. The Greenwarden, a heavily-built man about a head taller than Jeremy, wastes no time in fighting back and throws Jeremy to the ground.

As the fight goes on and the Silver is distracted, Matt is able to struggle free. He scrambles away from the vines, kicking them while he gasps for his breath. As he recovers, Matt watches the Greenwarden pull a blade from his hip to swing down at a rising Jeremy. “Watch it!” he roars.

Jeremy’s eyes grow wide as he sees the shine in the man’s hand that can only be a blade. In a blind panic, he thrusts his hands out to push him away.

The man explodes in a shower of silver blood that coats Jeremy. Even Matt receives a little shower of gore. Jeremy kneels, staring in utter horror at the offal and bloody remains of what used to be a man. He falls backwards, crawling away from what he has done and does his best not to vomit.

He finds himself in Matt’s arms shuddering. “Dude, it’s alright,” Matt says, “You’re good. You’re good! Come on, there’s others, we gotta go man!” He wraps Jeremy’s shuddering arms around his neck and hoists him to his feet. Matt shrouds them once again and they run as fast as Jeremy can muster in his terrified stupor.

At the vehicle, Matt half-helps half-shoves Jeremy into the back and then swings into the driver’s seat.He slams the door right as a shard of metal is thrown at them. With one hand, he grabs Jeremy’s clasped hands, and with the other he manipulates the light back into a cover for the jeep, then floors the accelerator and the jeep lurches forwards towards the road.

“You good, Lil’ J?” Matt asks.

Jeremy’s breaths don’t slow. He sinks down in his seat and his hand comes to his head. “No…” he murmurs.

“Deep breaths, J. It's alright. I'll try get Geoff on the line,” Matt says as he toys with the jeep’s intercom while simultaneously watching where he’s going and maintaining enough concentration to hold his veil over the car. “If the damn guy will pick up. Come on, Geoff, come on!”

A ruffling sound answers his demands, and a much younger voice yet even more reassuring voice than Matt was expecting comes through. “Hello?”

“Trev? That you?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, is everything alright?” Trevor asks.

“We got most of the generators before the Silvers found us. Probably enough to knock power out of most of the city. But…”

“But what?”

“Jeremy… Well he… you know. He did his thing on one of ‘em. It was self-defence. He’s not taking it well.”

“Fuck…” Trevor murmurs. “I saw it happen on TV once but… I guess I never thought Jeremy would have to do it. Are you going home?”

“As soon as we’re clear, yeah. And you? Is everyone alright?”

“Yeah, we’re breathing, yeah. We’re just waiting right now. Most of the non-combatant Reds are out of here, and then we’ll start evacuating the fighters. The Silvers could be here any minute. For all we know there could be scouts surrounding us as we speak. Gav’s making ice walls everywhere he can but we all know they won’t hold long.”

“You’re expecting a large force?”

“We took a valuable hostage. I’m willing to bet most of Locke’s house will come personally.”

“You sure you don’t want us to meet you there?” Matt asks.

“No, no,” Trevor says quickly, “Not if Jeremy’s not okay. Get him home, we’ll see you there.”

“Alright. Good luck, Trev.”

“Thanks. We’ll need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've been with Trevor, Alfredo and Geoff for quite a while now, let's give them a break for a week.


	14. Chapter 14

Trevor slams the truck’s door as Geoff returns holding a handful of berries given to them by one of the villagers. “Matt got in contact,” Trevor says as he accepts the food.

Geoff raises an eyebrow. “They failed?”

“No, it was mostly a success. Jeremy killed a guy though. It shook him up. Sounds like he’s in shock.”

“I can imagine,” Geoff says. “Still, what they did, I’m hoping it means Jeremy and the rest of you won’t need to use your powers any time soon. No power in the capital hopefully should delay their response times.”

“But they’ll still find us,” Trevor comments while he eats quickly and watches the Reds close by check their weapons. There isn’t much – only a few guns that were meant for the local law enforcement. Beyond that there was just whatever they could find, mostly scythes from the field and what few weapons the blacksmith had in stock. Hardly the weaponry to be facing Silvers with. “If they don’t kill us here first.”

“If they don’t kill us here first,” Geoff confirms.

“You think we’ll be alright?” Trevor asks.

Geoff shrugs. “There’ll be death. I know that much.”

“Yeah. I’m frightened, Geoff.”

“You’d be crazy if you weren’t. But it’s not you I’m worried about. Trevor, why don’t you go help Michael spot for us? Send Alfredo my way if you see him.”

Trevor laughs. “Michael? He’s still pissed at me for the thing with Barbara. He probably wants to throw me to the Silvers for that.”

“I doubt that. And since when have you been afraid of Michael?”

“I’m not; I don’t want to make things worse between us. I’ll find Fredo and see if Gavin needs help.”

Geoff nods at the compromise. Trevor throws the rest of the berries to the back of his mouth and pats Geoff’s shoulder. “If I don’t see you before it begins, good luck.”

“You too.”

Geoff watches Trevor as he goes, then directs his mind elsewhere. Without Trevor, the quiet murmurs of Reds waiting to fight for their lives sets in. It’s eerily quiet to say so many linger nearby. He wonders if any of them have ever fought before. The kingdom hadn’t engaged in any significant wars within the lifetime of the younger Reds, only minor land-squabbles with neighbours, but experience is experience.

Sighing, he clambers onto the hood of the truck and leans against the windshield watching the sky grow darker. Perhaps that’s what the Silvers are waiting for – the cover of darkness. They could get close and obliterate the town’s defences before anybody even realises they’re upon them. A well thought out attack could wipe out half the town. And if the Silvers somehow know his face, Geoff knows he is the most obvious target.

A breeze runs past and Geoff shivers. The ice fortress that Gavin had turned to town into gave the air a cold edge, and for a brief moment Geoff selfishly wishes that he had called for Michael instead. ‘No,’ he thinks, ‘This is the right choice.’

“Looking for something?”

When Geoff turns his head he sees Alfredo stood a few paces away. He is wearing a grey zip-up hoodie, and his hands are in the pockets and his hood drawn up. One of the villagers must have given it to him when the temperature started to drop. He offers a smile, but Geoff can see the nerves behind it.

“Your shadow, apparently,” Geoff says, “Where is he?”

“Tim? He’s at the tavern.”

Geoff’s eyes widen. “Are you lot drinking?!”

“No! He’s talking to people somewhere they feel safe.”

“Ah. Well, I suppose that’s more good than any of us can do right now.”

“Trev says you wanted me,” Alfredo says. Geoff nods, shuffles over and lets Alfredo sit beside him. “You don’t want me for company, do you?”

“I need you to stay with me through this.”

The rush of the cold wind is his first answer. “Stay?!” Alfredo looks at Geoff as if he were insane to suggest it.

“I knew you wouldn’t be happy about that. I have my reasons, Fredo. A lot of them, actually.”

“Name one.”

“I’m a healer, and the only friendly healer we know of. I can’t defend myself and I’m no value to anyone dead.”

“So have a guard of men, or call Gavin or Trevor. Not me. I should be on the front lines, Geoff.”

“Remember what happened last time you disobeyed me and ran off to the front line?”

“Yeah, I got Locke out of his cover and held him for long enough for Trevor to reach us.”

“You almost died, Alfredo,” Geoff scolds, “And you should have done. Trevor saved you once, but we are not facing a lone noble now, we are facing an army. Trevor and the others will be too busy to watch your back this time and I’m not willing to gamble your life away. You’re not ready for this, and you shouldn’t have come.”

“I have more experience than almost anybody who’s here to fight, even without my powers! You can’t expect me to sit around here and do nothing!”

“Not nothing. Helping and protecting me. If they find out I’m a healer I become their number one target. Our forces will try to hold the bulk of their army back, but it’s inevitable that some will slip through.”

Alfredo doesn’t respond, and not for frustration. His attention is diverted, his eyes fixed somewhere behind Geoff. Alfredo frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. A soft breeze circles them, almost certainly a summoned one. When Geoff swivels his head to follow Alfredo’s gaze, he finds nothing.

The slow breeze roars to life as Alfredo suddenly throws himself over Geoff to stand beside the hood between him and whatever had caught Alfredo’s attention. He throws his hand out towards the closest building, a stone building most likely used for local government. The wind obeys without hesitation, and Geoff watches in awe as the veil of a Shadow falls away as their body thuds against the stone. A dagger in his hand clatters to the ground just as he falls unconscious.

“Fredo?” Geoff stutters as he slides off the hood, staring at the Silver. The Reds around them lurch to life, rushing and shouting to spread the word.

“They’re here. Fuck…!” Alfredo murmurs. “Stand back.”

“Fredo…!” Geoff protests before he falls backwards with a hand up to cover his face from any debris that might be thrown his way by the hurricane that envelops Alfredo. It doesn’t last long, only a few seconds or so, but it served its purpose. A firebolt soars over the village – no doubt Michael’s signal in return. Already the village is loud with the shouts and preparations.

As Geoff is distracted, Alfredo bolts past him. Geoff does his best to grab him, but his fingers barely graze his hoodie. “Fredo!” he shouts after him. “FREDO!”

“I’ll send support, Geoff,” Alfredo calls back to him.

“Your stubborn ass will be the death of us, Alfredo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, managed to get a chapter up on time. I missed a Hollow Crown chapter because I decided I wanted to write another chapter between what is published and what I have already written, so hopefully that'll be coming in the next day or so. And after that, since exam season is now over, I can FINALLY get back to Just a Simple Hybrid AU Fanfic. Super excited for that.


	15. Chapter 15

Alfredo finds Michael on top of some hastily constructed battlements watching over one of Gavin’s great ice walls. It faces over a field looking to the south of the village – the way they had anticipated the Silvers arriving. About two truck-lengths away from the wall, straw, worthless wood and any other disposable flammables were piled upon each other and formed a mostly continuous ring around the village. This direction looked upwards at a hill – visibility wasn’t great. The army is probably close.

“Silvers?” Michael asks quickly. As usual when he’s ready for a fight, his fists are alight with a bright flame that flickers at his arms.

“Shadow near the town centre. Must have snuck in. They were a scout, I think, but they had a dagger, and I think they tried to attack Geoff after he said he was a healer.”

“You felt them then,” Michael comments with a hint of pride in his voice. He looks out to the hill, scowls, and throws a ball of fire to the flammable ring. It catches unnaturally fast and roars to life, spreading as far as Michael’s reach will allow. “Geoff alright?”

Alfredo nods once as he squints at the roaring flames. “I took care of it. He’s good.”

“There’s probably others,” Michael says.

“They won’t be able to reach him. Not with people running around like this.”

Michael grunts in agreement. “Wait here, Alfredo. When you see them, throw a gale at them, as strong as you can muster, and keep it going for as long as you can. Don’t worry about my flames, they’ll hold, in fact you’ll make them stronger. Make sure that ash is in their faces, and if you can, drive them to the west. Trevor might be able to flood them out over there.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see if I can’t rout them from behind.”

“But they have scouts; they’ll see you!”

Michael nearly laughs. “Good! I could use a good fight. If you don’t see me or my flames in ten minutes, send Gavin. He’ll be running around here maintaining the ice – you’ll see him.”

“Okay. Good luck,” Alfredo says shortly.

Michael gives him a curt nod and vaults the wall, sliding to the earth below between the wall of ice and the wall of flames. At his thought, the flames crawl higher into the sky – he should be safely hidden.

Satisfied, Michael bolts east, in the opposite direction of the low, damp land that Trevor should be defending. He runs past the eastern boundaries of the village, parting the wall of flames for just long enough for him to dive through and keep running until he finds himself within the cover of the woods. Only then does he change his course to push up the southward hill to where the Silvers must be preparing to attack.

As warned, there is a scout waiting – a woman sat perched in one of the trees with binoculars to her eyes. Her attention is firmly fixed on something – she doesn’t notice Michael sprint by, throwing a fireball to the branch she is supporting her weight on.

The suddenly alight branch crumbles beneath her weight. Michael expects her to fall, maybe even to injure herself enough that she can’t run back to the Silvers and warn them of the approaching burner. But the crash of a body and a cry of pain does not come. Instead, to his left, Michael sees the woman moving almost too fast for his eyes to keep up. She pushes off the closest tree and lands entirely without injury just a few short metres away, and she looks up to Michael with fury in her eyes.

“Ah, fuck!” Michael groans. He tries to envelope himself in flames, but the Swift is faster and the next thing he knows Michael is on the ground and pelted with kicks. Hot red blood splashes across his face as the woman breaks his nose before he can process enough to bring his arms to cover his face. As he finally does, he ignites himself.

The beating ends, as he assumed it would, but she doesn’t run. Instead, Michael hears the strong beat of wings, a little gust of wind, and the cry of a bird. Then the Silver screams. Michael dares to peak through his arms to witness a falcon fly to a nearby tree branch with silver-coated talons. The woman is on the ground covering her eyes and screaming. There’s silver blood bleeding through her fingers and below her palms.

Michael’s flames die away in his shock, a shock he is only brought out of when a hand touches his shoulder. He jumps and rounds with fire in his hands. A young person with electric-blue hair stumbles back. “Hey, hey, easy!” they say.

Michael raises an eyebrow. “You’re Red. You’re from the village?” he asks. The person nods slowly and watches Michael’s fire fade. “Then what are you doing out here?!”

“Saving you. I saw you leave – I thought it was suicide.”

“Saving me? What-” Michal pauses, shoots his eyes up at the falcon still watching him and back to them. “The bird? You trained a bird to take people’s eyes out?!”

“I’ve never trained an animal in my life. I don’t need to. I think I’m like you guys.”

“You think?”

“Animals do what I want them to do. Sometimes I even think I can see through their eyes. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all, so you’re probably one of us. Go back to the village and…”

They scowl. “So I save you and you think you can order me around? No. I’m coming with you. You clearly need it.”

“I… Alright, you have a point, but you understand this is risky? I want you to understand what you’re walking into.”

“Do I look like a child?”

“I’m just making sure. Come on,” he nods in the direction of the Silvers.

“But what about her?” the blue-haired person asks, gesturing to the Silver woman crawling south.

“She’s blind, but she’s Silver. They’ll find her, and it’s nothing their healers can’t fix. Come on, we need to get behind them before they reach the walls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, I haven't had as much chance for writing recently as I'd hoped, and when I did the events of the past week haven't really left me feeling up to writing much anyway. I hope everyone is safe and if any of my readers are out protesting in the US or beyond I'm behind you. I think a fight for equality is a theme among my fics and it's saddening that these struggles for equality are still needed in 2020 in the real world, but it is heartwarming to see so many people trying to do something about it. Anyway, this has nothing to do with the fic but I thought I needed to address it. So yeah, if you're out protesting please stay safe and be responsible, and I hope this chapter is at least a small respite from what's happening right now.
> 
> Also to Kiuda (who comments on every chapter and is fucking awesome), when I said there would only be four Reds with powers for this fight, SIKE, I LIED XD


	16. Chapter 16

By the time the Silvers appear over the hilltop, Alfredo has been joined by perhaps a hundred Reds across the battlements. A couple have guns or other long-range weapons, but some are just waiting to see what they will face.

“Cover!” Alfredo demands as he ducks behind the wall of ice with his back to it. His command echoes across the battlements and the Reds join him kneeled behind safety. The clamour of shouts grows louder, but Alfredo blanks it out and closes his eyes. As Michael told him, every bit of his strength and concentration is needed to reach out to the air, as far as he can, and command it to race past him, over the heads of the Reds, over the wall, through the flames and out over the hill and the oncoming forces.

He smiles with exhilaration when he hears the wind roar above him. He feels the cold sting at it as it crosses the wall as far as the battlements go, and the heat of the flames his gale lurches through, and the incline of the hill that it races up. Alfredo’s nerves feel alight as he exerts his will across so much of the air for so long, and despite the ice at his back he feels sweat bead across his skin.

“You’re doing great, honey,” the middle-aged woman beside him says.

“Is it working? Is it holding them back?” he asks.

“I daren’t look.”

“It is,” the man on his other side says, “I believe it is.”

Alfredo’s grin widens, but not for long. “If it’s working, tell them to fire. One round, one shot, one arrow, one whatever, alright? Then get back in cover. No risks!”

The woman gives the order. Alfredo pushes the wind slightly upwards for the safety of the peeking Reds and the command comes. The Reds fire and duck, though a couple of cheers rise. There must have been hits.

“How close are they? Can we risk another?” Alfredo asks.

“The fastest are half-way down, but a lot of them are blinded by the ash. Perhaps we can risk it,” the man comments.

“Okay. Okay, I’m going to try to push them west. Get ready to shoot.”

As the woman prepares the order again, Alfredo lets up on the western side of the gale and pushes what strength he has left into the east. This time, he opens his eyes to watch the Reds fire. As they do, Gavin climbs onto the battlements and slides into cover beside Alfredo. His hand presses against the wall as he reinforces the ice.

“You’ve never done this before,” Gavin says.

“I didn't know I could,” Alfredo murmurs, “I don’t know how long I can keep it up.”

“As long as possible,” Gavin requests.

“Are they falling west?”

Gavin raises his head to just over the ice. “Uh… I think so. Hard to see much.” He ducks back down and asks, “Where’s Michael?”

“He said he was going to…!”

Alfredo is cut off by a crumbling explosion. The wall of ice behind them gives out and the makeshift wooden battlements they kneel on fall with it. Gavin crafts a blade of ice and slams it into the nailed block of wood he sees as he falls, clinging to it so that he doesn’t fall with the structure. A few nearby Reds are also lucky enough to manage to stay on top of the rubble, but most people within several metres of the blast site fall.

Gavin drags himself to safety and looks down to the funnel of land between the flames and the remaining pile of rubble. The fall from the original height must have been over four metres, and it looks like a lot of people are injured.

Beneath him, Alfredo pushes himself up by his elbows. His exposed skin is littered with small cuts but he escaped major injury. When Gavin calls his name, Alfredo offers a thumbs up. “I’m okay.”

“No, Fredo!” Gavin cries, “There’s an Oblivion down there!”

Alfredo’s eyes dart, and he notices a man crawling towards him. His skin is the ghostly pale only Silvers can acquire, and he is only a few short feet from reaching him.

Another Red noticed the threat. A brave older man who throws himself on top of the Silver to slow his progress. “NO!” Alfredo warns, but too late. The Oblivion reaches back, and with an explosion and a shower of red, the man is gone.

“MOVE!” Gavin shouts. Alfredo drags himself to his feet as an icicle falls, impaling the Silver’s upper leg. As he roars, a gust whips up throws him through the flames safely to the other side.

Alfredo falls against the rubble for support as he catches his breath and tries to calm himself. Unfortunately, that is not a luxury Gavin will allow him.

“Fredo, get the injured up, NOW!”

“Huh?”

“You’re not holding them back anymore, they’re coming! There’s probably Shadows and other Silvers down there too; it’s the only way that Oblivion could have gotten so close so fast. If you don’t get the injured up now they’ll slaughter them!”

As Gavin speaks, Alfredo feels the thunder of the Silvers sprinting for them behind the flames. “Catch them!” he calls upwards.

“Be ready,” Gavin warns the Reds around him. When the winds sweep up the harmed Reds, they are waiting to grab them and they are carried to safety towards Geoff. Only once the injured are safe does Alfredo begin to boost the unharmed up the rubble where Gavin can pull them up.

Alfredo waits until last to throw himself up. He raises himself high enough to grab Gavin’s hand and begin to pull himself up, but as he finally gets a footing the wall of fire breaks behind them. Two Nymph Silvers toss water over the flames to give a Burner a shot.

The fireball they throw sears across Gavin’s arm. He hisses and releases Alfredo, who falls a second time and barely manages to break his fall with the wind. Alfredo drags himself onto his feet and calls: “Are you alright, Gav?”

“I’ll be fine, but you won’t be if you stay there! RUN!”

A small wave of water falls through the flames again, giving a brief glimpse of the army at their doorstep. Alfredo darts west between the ice and fire, gathering the wind as he runs. With enough mustered, he throws himself upwards and over the wall to safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait to post this so fuck it, early chapter XD
> 
> Also I just noticed that, as of this chapter, half of this story has taken place on the same day. I didn't intend for these fights to be so long but I'm happy with how they're going. I swear I'll end the day at some point. The guys are going to need to sleep for a week after this.


	17. Chapter 17

Geoff works tirelessly, rushing from one wounded Red to another as they are delivered. Every range of wound appears – burns, cuts, impalements, broken bones and even an occasional missing limb. And every time he sees a new wound he gives it his undivided attention, however awful the damage, and however loud the fight at the village’s border is.

He is healing a woman with a broken leg when Tim taps his shoulder lightly. “The trucks are coming back. Distant though.”

Geoff does not look up from his work as he says: “Took them long enough.”

Tim leans against the hood of Geoff’s truck, waiting while Geoff works. After a while he comments, “I felt a breeze.”

“Probably just that – a breeze,” Geoff says. Tim frowns at him. “He’s probably fine.”

“Do you believe that?”

Geoff doesn’t answer. He moves on to his next patient in silence. Tim drums on his arm with his nerves and turns his attention back to the road.

A cry of Geoff’s name breaks the attention of both men. Gavin stumbles into the square with his hand on his forearm. That forearm is coated with ice, but beneath the ice is a bloody wound that spans almost from his shoulder to his elbow.

Immediately Tim moves to escort the Shiver to Geoff, who finishes up with his previous patient as quickly as he can. Gavin drops to his knees by Geoff’s side with a pained grunt and pulls his hand away. The ice shatters and crumbles away with it, revealing a horrid burn. Tim winces at the sight, but Geoff has seen worse.

The moment Geoff lays a hand on the wound, Gavin breathes a short sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

“What’s happening up there?” Tim asks.

Gavin shakes his head. “It’s not good. We’re not good enough. We knew we weren’t. We were holding them back but it didn’t last, and my walls are going to come down soon. I don’t know where Michael or Fredo are, and Trevor… Trevor can’t hold them back alone. There’s too many Reds, and so many Nymphs they might even be able to nullify him.”

“Maybe we should call them back,” Tim suggests. “All the Reds like me – call them back here. You guys won’t have to worry about us then.”

“Pointless,” Geoff says, “Even if we had all four of them – we’d need every powered Red we know of to defend the boundaries of an entire village, and even that would be a stretch.”

“You think something happened to them, Geoff? Michael and Fredo?” Tim asks.

Geoff shrugs and deflects the question to Gavin.

“Fredo went down when part of the wall exploded. He got most of the others who fell to safety but I couldn’t get him out. That’s when this happened. I didn’t see what happened to him after that.”

“Fuck…!” Tim growls.

“And Michael?” Geoff probes.

“He lit the pyre around the village but I haven’t seen anything since that. Fredo knew where he went.”

Geoff shakes his head. “He’s up to something then. Shame he didn’t share with the group. You’re mostly healed, Gav. Think you can carry on like this?”

With a glance, Gavin nods. The moment Geoff releases him he recoats his now minor burn with ice and crawls to his feet.

As he does, an explosion somewhere beyond the wall catches their attention. A huge inferno crawls into the sky and spreads outwards. Only one Burner has such power, and Gavin cries: “My boi!” before breaking into a sprint towards the new fire.

Gavin does not make it far. Not three metres away from Geoff he is knocked over as if he hit something. Dazed, his eyes wander above him to see nothing but sky. “Hu…” Gavin murmurs, before something strikes his temple and he blacks out.

“Silver!” Tim warns. He shoves Geoff to the ground and barrels at the space where Gavin fell. He brings down an Shadow who, upon impact, loses his concentration and his veil fails. Beside them, a pistol clatters to the ground.

The two of them struggle against each other while Geoff kicks the gun to a safe distance. Then he grabs the arm of the Shadow. At Geoff’s touch, the man’s eyes glaze over and his struggling halts.

Tim pushes the limp Shadow away from him and wipes blood from his mouth as he pants. “What did you do to him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Geoff says as he lays a hand on Gavin’s temple. “He’s unconscious and paralysed.”

“Oh, just paralysed? Good, I was worried it was something serious.”

Geoff shrugs. “It’s nothing Silver healers won’t be able to fix.”

As he speaks, Gavin gasps. His eyes flash open and he sits up, almost headbutting Geoff in the process. “What happened?!”

“You were knocked unconscious. It’s fine, we handled it. Gav, go find Michael – something’s going on over there.”

“Michael? Oh, Michael!” Gavin wastes no further time jumping to his feet and re-centring himself. “Watch out for yourself,” Gavin says quickly before taking off to find the Burner.

“And if you find Fredo,” Geoff calls after Gavin, “Send him to us! As a matter of urgency! Otherwise, find Trevor!”

“Do we need them?” Tim asks.

“That wall is coming down soon, and once it does we won’t have time to wait for one of them to fight their way to us. I’ll be dead before anybody knows what’s happening.” Geoff pats Tim’s back. “Go get ready to evac people, Gettys. I have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The evolution of this chapter was a journey. It started from Fredo's perspective, then I flipped it to Trevor's, then I moved to Geoff, rewrote from Gavin's perspective and then swapped back to Geoff. So basically nothing in the original chapter ended up staying but at least I now have a great understanding of what was going on parallel to the events of this chapter XD


	18. Chapter 18

“They’re breaking through! Nymph, they’re breaking through the fire!”

“I know,” Trevor says as calmly as he can. He sits safely behind the barricades, focusing as best he can on preventing any unnatural movement of water nearby. The Nymphs within the Silver ranks are weak, but there are many of them. Nullifying their abilities takes up most of his concentration. “They were always going to. It’s not about stopping them; it’s about slowing them down!”

“Should we shoot?” somebody asks.

“If it’s safe. Do not shoot to kill, is that clear?”

A few Reds dare to glance over the wall, and some decide to risk a few shots. Trevor hears the wails of wounded men in response, followed by the screams of Reds. “What’s happening?!”

“The guns just flew out of our hands!”

“Magnetrons…” Trevor murmurs before he shouts: “Get away from the wall! Get to safety! Go…!”

His commands are drowned out by screams, followed immediately by rapid gunfire over the wall onto the defenders, as if from an even more elevated position. Trevor rolls in an attempt to avoid the fire, but as he falls to safety a bullet strikes his abdomen, just missing his hip.

Before he can hit the street beneath him, the wind sweeps up and catches him and every other Red who jumped or fell from the battlements. Alfredo lets them down gently while he throws a second gust at the suspended guns to divert their fire elsewhere. “Get the wounded and fall back!” he shouts.

Trevor crawls to his knees covering his wound. He grunts at each movement, then casts his eyes to those that fell beside him. Many are wounded. Many don’t move at all. “Fuck…”

Alfredo appears by his side and pulls Trevor to relative safety. “You’re bleeding,” he says.

“Yeah? So are you.”

“Not that much, I’m fine. You’re not.”

A shower of bullets rain down once again on the fleeing Reds. Trevor and Alfredo duck and crawl into cover, and from there Alfredo peeks at the threat. The air curls upwards into a hurricane on the other side of the wall. It scatters the bullets and drags the weapons into the air, high enough to be outside of the reach of the Silver Magnetrons. When the firearms are free of their influence, Alfredo hurls them as far from the wall as he can. If the Reds can’t have them, nobody will have them.

“Come on, stand up,” Alfredo says as he pulls one of Trevor’s arms around his neck and hoists Trevor to his feet.

“I can walk, Fredo. I’m good.”

“Not as fast as I can drag you.”

“No, I need to stay! They’re putting the fires out; I can feel it,” Trevor insists.

“Let them, we can’t defend this anymore.”

“And let them tear that wall down and charge us?! That’s suicide!”

“Not with me,” Alfredo says.

Trevor shakes his head. “You’re underestimating their numbers.”

“You’re underestimating me!”

An explosion behind them blows them both off their feet. Trevor lands hard on his left arm, but at least he manages to protect his head and wound. Around him, shrapnel from the ice wall and its wooden defences litter the ground. There is a roar of triumph among the Silvers outside, though it does not last long.

The embers of the explosion seem to find new life and roar into a great inferno that envelops the remnants of the outer defences. Trevor throws up a veil of water between the escaping Reds and the fires, and that is the only reason that he, Alfredo and the others are not burned to a crisp.

On the other side of it all, there is screaming. Not roaring, screaming. The fires part briefly, and through them steps Michael and someone unfamiliar. With relief, Trevor lets his veil of water crash to the ground.

“Where have you been?!” Alfredo shouts.

“Hey!” Michael snaps, “I told you I was routing them. Now they’re scattered and trapped. You’re welcome.”

“You couldn’t have done that FIVE MINUTES AGO?!”

“I got held up,” Michael says. He offers Alfredo a hand, and once he is up, Michael drags Trevor to his feet too and helps him the short distance around the closest corner for cover. Trevor leans against the closest structure, a house, and covers his wound once more. “You good, Collins?” Michael asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Michael smirks.

“Who’s this?” Alfredo asks.

Michael takes a step back to present the stranger to them. “Right! Alfredo, Trevor, this is… Uh…”

“You never asked my name,” the stranger says, then they chuckle, and step towards the two men and wave. “Hi, my name’s Lindsay.”

“Lindsay!” Michael announces.

Trevor returns the most enthusiastic smile he can after being shot and says: “Trevor. This is Fredo.”

“You took someone with you?” Alfredo asks Michael.

Michael throws his hands up. “Whoa, no, no, Lindsay followed me! Besides, apparently we’re not the only freaks in town right now.”

Lindsay giggles and blushes. “Right, I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure but… Yeah, animals do what I want them to do. I guess it’s a power.”

“Animos,” Trevor says, “That’s what Silvers like you are called.”

Part of the surviving ice wall crumbles behind them into the fire. “We should get out of here before they regroup,” Michael says. “Where’s Gavin?”

“Hurt,” Alfredo says, “So maybe he went to Geoff?”

“Hopefully, if he’s smart. So that’s where we go too. You need carrying, Trev?” Michael asks.

Trevor shakes his head quickly. “No. I can walk,” he confirms, “You’ve all done worse to me in training than this. But I could use a little help.”

Alfredo steps in to take some of Trevor’s weight. As he does, Michael’s head snaps back around the corner to see the crumbling wall and the flames he left. “Burners,” he spits.

“Huh?”

“Burners suppressing my fire. You guys go on, I’ll catch up.”

“You’re sure?” Lindsay asks him.

Trevor grabs Michael’s arm. “No,” Trevor warns with a weak voice, “You’re immune to fire; they probably are too. You can’t hurt them. I can.”

“You’re not at full strength,” Michael counters.

“You think I need my full strength to take on a few Burners?” Trevor pulls free of Alfredo’s support and uses the support of the wall to take him to the corner. He peers out and finds the figures Michael was worried about in the fire. Trevor leans against the corner and covers his still bleeding wound with one hand while his other reaches out.

Water from every source Trevor can find comes at his command. From the vapour within the air, and the moist land, and particularly from the melting wall, it comes to lap around Trevor. With one swift movement, Trevor launches a jet into the flames.

The water hisses loudly as it meets the flame. Trevor can feel the heat, and feel the pull of the water as it tries to evaporate. Trevor won’t let it – he holds it under his command as he brings it back around to repeatedly lash at and crash against the bodies within the fire. They may be immune to flame itself, but not scalding water. The Burners fall back immediately.

“That’s good, Trey,” Michael says.

There is another hiss as much of the water evaporates when Trevor releases it. He all but collapses against Alfredo and gasps at his pain. “Trevor?!”

Michael notes the blood still pouring through Trevor’s fingers, then Trevor’s agonised face. “There’s too much blood. We need to get him to Geoff right now.”


	19. Chapter 19

“And the wall came down,” the young woman Geoff treats splutters, “And there were guns just hanging there and shooting and… And…”

“Did everybody make it out?” Geoff asks. The girl had a horrid gunshot wound to her shoulder when she arrived, though through his work the wound was now considerably less severe. The bleeding has stopped and the skin is just about closing over the wound. Internally, there is still work to be done, but it is unlikely the wound will become infected or prove fatal if left now.

She shakes her head and wipes away tears. “People fell – I don’t think a lot of them got up. I didn’t really look, I just ran.”

Geoff nods in his understanding, releases her shoulder and moves on to his next patient – an older man who also has a gunshot wound from the same event. When he speaks, Geoff still addresses the woman. “Get on that truck over there – I will finish with your wound when we’re safe.”

“Thank you,” she sobs, and scurries to where Tim is half-helping half-throwing people into the back of a truck.

The girl is the last he puts in before he thumps the back of the vehicle and shouts to the driver: “GO!” Then Tim moves on to the next waiting truck. He is incredibly efficient.

Michael comes barrelling into the square with his fists alight in a warning to Reds to stay clear. He looks around frantically until he finds what he is looking for. “GEOFF!” The healer doesn’t hear him – not until Michael is directly behind him. “Geoff!”

Geoff looks up from his work. “Michael?”

Michael is panting and is drenched in sweat – not from his fire but from exhaustion. “It’s Trevor. He’s bleeding out.”

“What? Fuck!” Geoff quickly examines the wound of the man he was healing. It is no longer a fatal wound, he judges. He demands the man go to Tim, and then he chases Michael.

Geoff and Michael find Trevor down a narrow street close to the square. He is barely conscious, and practically dragged by Alfredo and someone that Geoff does not recognise. The hoodie that Alfredo had been given is now tied tight around Trevor’s midsection. Presumably it was an effort to halt the blood flow, but judging by how the grey fabric is already stained with fresh red blood just above Trevor’s hip, it clearly wasn’t very efficient.

Geoff catches Trevor and pulls his clothes away from the wound and presses his hand hard against the wound. There is a lot of damage – multiple arteries were hit and there is an exit wound, and Geoff’s ability confirms, as if it were not already obvious, that Trevor has lost a lot of blood. “Come on, Trey,” Geoff says as he wills the wound to heal as fast as possible without making sloppy mistakes.

“The wall is down, Geoff,” Alfredo worries at him.

“I know.”

“They’ll be on us soon.”

“And we’re a man down,” Michael adds. “No, two. Where’s Gavin?”

“He’s not with you?” Geoff asks. Michael shakes his head and exchanges a glance with Alfredo. Michael’s expression betrays him with a hint of panic. “He went to find you, Michael, after the explosion,” Geoff finishes.

“Then he’s on his own against them. There were a lot of Burners too – ah fuck!” Michael throws his hands in the air and starts pacing. “I’ll have to…!”

_BOOM._

The explosion is followed by the sound of crashing, and smoke begins to rise towards the north-west of the village. Even Trevor shudders at the noise, and a few seconds later, a second explosion follows.

“They’re destroying the rest of it. They’ll come at us from every angle they can,” Michael says.

“And the Reds are almost entirely defenceless,” Geoff adds.

“I can fight,” Trevor mumbles. He feebly tries to push away from Geoff, but his muscles are still weak from blood loss.

“Don't be stupid, Trevor; no you can’t,” Geoff says. “Fredo, Michael, go to them. Just hold them back as long as you can – Tim is evacuating.”

Alfredo does not need to be told twice. He squeezes Trevor’s shoulder as he passes and rushes towards the square. The stranger goes with him too without hesitation.

Michael, on the other hand, protests. “I need to find Gavin.”

“Gavin will be fine; Fredo needs support.”

“Fredo has support! The Reds are armed to the teeth and at least he knows what he’s running into! I will be two minutes and then we’ll both be right beside Alfredo.”

“Michael…!” Geoff begins, only to be interrupted by a distant scream drawing closer. “Is that… Gavin?”

Sure enough, Gavin bolts around the corner screeching. “GO!” he wails, “SILVERS! MICHAEL!”

“Take Trevor and go!” Michael demands. He sprints at Gavin, and as the two of them pass he skids to a halt and throws an inferno from his hands. The street and mostly-wooden buildings around it go up in a blaze, blocking the path and obscuring the view. Michael hears feet hitting the ground on the other side, but they halt and make no immediate attempt to cross.

Through the fire, Michael hurls another jet of flames, and then turns on his heels and bolts after Gavin, Geoff and Trevor.

The scene Alfredo and Lindsay find is pure chaos. Reds scramble to throw their wounded into one of the trucks while Tim and a few others shout orders and to rally the crowd. The bravest among them try to form some sort of final line of defence, but it would be unrealistic to believe they will last long alone.

“Any good at fighting?” Alfredo asks.

“Not in this particular scenario, no,” Lindsay responds.

“Help them evacuate then. And don’t be afraid of the wind.”

“What does that mean?!” Lindsay asks.

They get no response – Alfredo has vanished into the chaos. He weaves his way through the square to the west and positions himself with his back against a stone building with two wide streets on either side – if the Silvers push from this direction they will take one or both of these streets, and the defences the Reds have produced will not suffice.

Alfredo gathers his strength, and he closes his eyes, and he waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early and fairly short chapter but I'm trying to get this fight finished up asap and move on with the plot, as fun as it is. I was hoping this would be the last chapter of the fight but it was getting too long so I decided to split the chapter in two and start everybody in the same place for the final stand next chapter. I guess this is just a bonus bridge chapter :D


	20. Chapter 20

Within the square, Geoff throws Trevor down behind cover and gets back to work. Gavin waits for Michael to catch up and throws a wall of ice behind them. Michael catches him and drags him behind cover.

“That won’t hold,” Michael pants.

“It’ll buy us time.”

“Yeah, three seconds, Gavin.”

“Got any better ideas?!”

Reluctantly, Michael admits defeat. He glances around the square: it’s not entirely packed as it had been when he and Gavin had arrived earlier in the day. Either many Reds have already been evacuated, or many had fallen already.

Tim and Lindsay and a few others are throwing terrified Reds into the trucks that must have only recently returned from delivering the non-combatants to safety. A valiant effort, Michael thinks, though he questions whether any will even escape at this point. There are probably Swifts chasing down those that have already gone, and far worse barrelling towards those that remain.

“Gav,” Michael calls over the panicked din. When he catches his attention, he continues, “If we die here, I want you to know that you were okay. You’re not quite the most annoying human being I’ve ever encountered.”

Gavin chuckles, almost blushes even. “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me, boi.”

“Yeah, well, take the complement before I give it to Geoff or someone. Besides, you still got that dumb accent.”

Gavin shrugs but keeps a slight grin on his mouth as he turns away and carves a wall of ice around Geoff and Trevor for their defence. It is just thick enough to block Geoff’s cry of: “Well now how am I supposed to get out?!” from reaching Gavin’s ears, as Gavin moves on and throws a sheet of ice across the ground along the street that the Silvers chased Michael down.

The plan works well enough, for when a giant of a Silver smashes through the ice wall he promptly falls, and his body holds back a few Silvers as well. It is enough for the nearby Reds to get a few good shots on the Silver forces before they have to duck into cover and Gavin throws another wall of ice up.

“Michael,” Gavin begins, turning to the Burner, “I need a… huh?”

Michael has vanished. Or rather, it seems so, until a collection of small stones crash down beside Gavin, who yelps and tips his head back to search for the source.

He sees Michael’s shoes disappearing over the roof of the building they have taken cover behind. Once he has dragged himself to his feet, Michael locks eyes with a woman who has climbed up past Gavin’s wall of ice. There are two others on the next roof also. The woman’s gaze is piercing like daggers, and that is exactly what she hurls at him; no less than five daggers guided towards his heart by her ability.

But Michael moves faster, and moments after he sees her there is a blazing inferno that encircles him. The Silver woman has no choice but to throw herself back down into the street or be burned alive. The points of her daggers melt into harmless curves of steel and without their master to guide them their momentum doesn’t carry them. The molten steel sears Michael’s jeans, but he himself is left completely unharmed.

One of the men on the other roof takes his cue to retreat also. The other is braver, or over-confident, or stupid. Either way the water he throws against Michael’s flames hisses into steam harmlessly.

In response, Michael throws a jet of fire. Not at the Silver, but at the wooden building his opponent stands on. It bursts into flame and crumbles not long after, sending the Silver and debris into the oncoming army still held behind Gavin’s game of ice walls and slippery ground.

Michael’s flames flicker into nothing at the closing of his fist. “I got this, Gav!” he shouts down. “You take the north side!” Gavin doesn’t hesitate to follow Michael’s orders.

Michael spares himself one quick glance to the retreating Reds. Since they arrived, two trucks have escaped, but about a hundred Reds remain. They still need time.

His concentration is broken by an echoing shout of: “Cover!” Michael doesn’t have time to find out what he is supposed to be taking cover from, but he finds out soon enough when a westward gale knocks him from the roof. He just barely manages to cling on with one hand and swing into cover, bellowing: “FREDO!”

Alfredo doesn’t hear his cry across the square. He doesn’t hear much of anything other than the roaring of the wind in his ears. The air funnels down the two closest streets, and with it, it takes countless approaching bodies.

Not all of them though. On his left, there is a huge obstacle. It still approaches – whatever it is, it is far stronger than even the wind.

Alfredo dares to glance around the corner. What he sees is a giant of a man carrying a shield of steel before him. The wind beats against it and everything in Alfredo tells him his wind should be strong enough – no man could hold out against it. But then he remembers the man in Burron’s town hall – he was resistant to his powers too. He was too _strong_.

Strength. It must be another ability.

Alfredo reaches out and commands the wind to turn, to hit the shield from behind on one side. As hoped, it forces the shield to the side, and his wind catches it well enough to force it completely away from the Silver. Little did he expect the Silver to opt to hurl the sheet of metal at him.

He throws it perfectly so that it slices through the air as if it were nothing. Alfredo ducks back behind the corner just in time – it scrapes past the stone with an awful grating noise and showers sparks over him as it soars by.

The next thing he knows, something huge closes around his wrist with such force Alfredo hears bones snap. The Silver had pounced on him while he was distracted, and now he has him.

By his shattered wrist, the Silver tosses Alfredo across the square. The wind whips to life to slow his flight, and it works just well enough that when Alfredo’s head and back slam against a solid wall it is merely agonising rather than fatal. His vision goes blank and his head spins, and when he hits the ground his wrist send sparks of agony racing through him. Around his twitching fingers, the wind falls still.

Trevor’s eyes finally open and focus. Ice. He’s surrounded by ice. Geoff is in here with him – he can feel the wave of Geoff’s ability over him, washing away the pain as his body knits itself back together. Outside he hears cries and shouts and the whistle of wind and the crackle of fire.

“I’m good,” Trevor says, trying to push himself to his feet.

“Not yet,” Geoff replies gruffly.

“I have to fight!”

Geoff shakes his head once. “A bullet tore a hole through you, Trev. I need to get this right.”

With a roll of his eyes, Trevor flexes his wrists. Water from the ice, quickly melted by nearby flames, flows to his call. It stings against his skin. “This will be cold,” he warns.

“Don’t you dare.”

The ice beside Michael shatters in a wave of water. Trevor and Geoff come crashing out. Trevor is holding what used to be his wound and grunting, while Geoff splutters out a mouthful of water and shudders.

“Collins,” Geoff growls.

Either knowingly or not, Trevor misunderstands Geoff and says, “I’m good, don’t worry about me. Thanks.” Geoff groans in response, and Trevor smiles and reaches towards him and with one swift flick of his wrist commands the water from Geoff’s drenched form. He dries himself off also and rises, assessing the scene.

“Geoff, trucks!” Michael shouts over his shoulder. Fire spews from his hands to ward off invaders. Geoff, looking utterly exhausted, drags himself to his feet and dutifully rushes to aid the wounded Reds escaping. “Trev,” Michael continues, “Fredo or Gavin might need help.”

As he finishes, Alfredo’s body crashes against a wall on the other side of Michael. His body falls limp to the ground. Worse, the area he had been defending is left open, and within seconds Silvers infiltrate the square.

Michael is forced to catch Trevor from rushing to Alfredo’s side. Trevor fights him, but Michael holds firm. “No, we need you defending!” Michael orders. Trevor shoves him again, but Michael holds him back. “You can’t do anything for him!”

“He’s dying!”

“Let somebody else help him! Our people are dying over there! We need you!”

With an agitated noise of agreement, Trevor pushes free and charges the Silvers, summoning water into a wave as he goes. He narrowly dodges Tim, who comes barging through without regard for anybody but Alfredo.

With a final fireball behind him, Michael darts into the fight with Trevor.

Consciousness comes and goes. Sometimes Alfredo thinks he hears Trevor’s voice, or Gavin’s, or Tim’s. Or maybe they’re dreams, or hallucinations; he’s not entirely sure. About the only thing he is sure of is that he is the pain. It is the only constant as he fades in and out of reality.

He hurts everywhere, but there are three spots that are truly agonising. Every time he manages to suck in a breath, his chest feels like it is set alight. There must be broken ribs, and maybe damage to his lungs too. His head pounds, and when his vision returns it is in spots. And his wrist… well, he can only assume that if he could move, his hand probably wouldn’t be entirely functional, if the Silver didn’t rip it off entirely.

He’s not sure how long passes like this. Seconds, minutes, hell, it could be hours. He doesn’t exactly process much external stimulation, other than the voices. Although, occasionally, the air seems to cry to him. He feels blistering, but unharmful, heat surge through the air, or a wave of cold. The cold is preferable, he decides.

It takes far too long for the soothing wash of a healer’s ability to bleed through him, but it does so during one of his blackouts. When he comes to again, he can’t feel his pain, though he knows he is still horribly broken. He can hear clearly too, and without the constant agony his mind defogs and he can form coherent thoughts.

“Fredo?” comes the apprehensive voice of Tim. “Can you hear me? Come on, say something!”

“He’s alive,” Geoff says sternly. “Just.”

“Then why isn’t he responding?! Is your power working?” Tim worries. Geoff doesn’t respond, but Alfredo knows by Tim’s silence that Geoff is probably giving him a look.

Alfredo tries to open his eyes fully. It doesn’t quite work, but his vision is mostly restored. He sees the bodies of Tim and Geoff bent over him, with Geoff’s arms drifting this way and that as his hands work. Behind them, there is an eruption of fire and water and ice and every other element a Silver can command. Gavin, Michael and Trevor form the last line of defence, holding back a small army while others escape.

“Hold on, Fredo,” Tim says. He reaches out to pat Alfredo’s shoulder but thinks better of it and pulls back. To Geoff, Tim says, “I’m going to help.”

“Be careful,” Geoff replies. Tim rises, grabs a gun and charges.

“NO!” Alfredo tries to protest. What comes out is little more than a dry croak, one that not even Geoff hears over the fight. So Alfredo focuses his eyes on Tim and calls to the wind instead.

Controlling it without the guidance of his arms, hands and fingers, the way Michael had trained him, is not so easy, and rather than a concentrated wind pushing Tim back, the wind he calls instead merely blows generally in his direction. It is so weak that Tim would be forgiven for thinking it to be a natural wind, and that is precisely what he assumes.

Only Geoff notes what Alfredo is attempting. “Like it or not, Fredo, we need him. Don’t stress yourself out or I’ll have to put you under.” The whip of the wind around Geoff disagrees, and Geoff feels Alfredo’s heartrate increase with his anxiety. Geoff shakes his head, but he doesn’t follow through on his promise – if anything does happen to Tim, Alfredo will not thank Geoff kindly for knocking him unconscious and rendering him powerless to help.

So Alfredo watches in horror while Tim darts from cover to cover, firing as best he can. When a Magnetron throws the gun from his hand, Michael burns the gun’s nozzle to prevent it being turned on them again. Tim grabs a discarded sickle and throws it and vanishes from Alfredo’s line of sight.

“Geoff,” Alfredo groans. His voice is still hoarse and quiet, so he clears his throat, takes a deep breath and tries again. “Geoff.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” Geoff replies. “Focus on breathing for me; healing is easier when there’s a little oxygen in your blood, you know?”

“I need to…!”

“Stay still, Fredo.”

“Tim…”

“He’s getting evac’d. And as soon as I think you’ll survive without me for longer than fifteen minutes, so will you.”

Alfredo doesn’t have the strength to keep arguing with Geoff, and so he accepts and lays still and focuses on his breathing as his strength returns.

A cry comes from the fight. Trevor, holding off five Silvers at once with a looping jet of water, calls over his shoulder, “It’s just us, Geoff! Get on!”

“Gavin! Help me lift him!” Geoff demands. Geoff pulls Alfredo’s arm around himself and hoists him upwards. It takes the breath out of Alfredo as he does: his ribs must still be damaged and he can only imagine the pain Geoff is shielding him from. On his other side, a cold pair of hands grab him and between Geoff and Gavin they lift Alfredo and carry him to the last truck available: Geoff’s own vehicle that had been parked in the square all day in case of an emergency.

They throw him in the back and Geoff crawls in after him. “Can you sit?” Geoff asks. Alfredo nods and pushes himself back against the cab with his good arm and pushes up. “How strong are you, Fredo? We might need you.”

“I’m good. I can help.”

Gavin takes a momentary break from raining shards of ice on the army to throw himself up. Trevor whisks past and throws himself into the driver’s seat and the engine roars to life.

“MICHAEL!” Gavin calls.

“GO!” Michael snarls at them. “GO!”

Trevor obeys and slams the accelerator. The three in the back are thrown forward and Gavin barely avoids being thrown out. Michael turns and sprints after them, and throws fire backwards to launch himself into the air.

He would have fallen short if not for Alfredo’s intervention, and lands hard on the cab above Trevor. “Asshole,” Geoff snaps, “Now isn’t the time to be trying that flying shit out!”

Michael rolls into the back of the truck with them and shrugs. “It worked.”

“DUCK!” Gavin caws. The others do so without hesitation, even Alfredo who falls behind Michael, using his left arm to cover his ribs and damaged wrist as best he can. He loses contact with Geoff in the process and his pain returns – by now far more prominent in his wrist.

A barrage of metal shards shower over them, shattering the window between them and Trevor. There is a shudder as a tyre is slit, and a cry from Geoff.

“We’re down a wheel,” Michael snarls, tossing fire behind them. He catches a Swift when he does so.

“We’re fine,” Alfredo grunts through his pain.

“We lost a tyre!”

“A tyre got damaged,” the Windweaver corrects.

Michael dares to glance over the edge of the truck to see what Alfredo means. He can see the huge gash across the tyre, but miraculously, it isn’t deflated in the slightest. “Huh,” Michael says, “Is that difficult?”

“It will be if I pass out from the pain. Geoff?” Alfredo pleads.

“Geoff’s hit,” Gavin responds. Geoff lays against Gavin, covering a wound that spans most of his outer thigh. Blood pools through his fingers, and for once it’s his own. His eyes are scrunched in pain. Gavin begins to tear parts of his shirt away to halt the blood loss.

“Why isn’t he healing himself?” Alfredo asks.

“He can’t,” Michael answers shortly.

“There’s two types of healing abilities,” Trevor explains, “Skin and Blood. Skin Healers heal others, but not themselves. Blood Healers are the opposite; makes them near impossible to kill.”

“It’s a curse that torments me every day,” Geoff grunts. Through his pain, he cracks a smile. “I can save you assholes but not myself. Come here, Fredo. I can work while Gavin patches me up.”

“I could cauterise it?” Michael suggests.

“And have the shock K.O. or kill me?” Geoff almost laughs. “I’ll take my chances with Gav. Don’t let me die, Free. I die, he dies, tyre blows, we all die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little late, but in fairness it's twice the length of a usual chapter. Also sorry if it reads as rushed - I was trying to finish the fight up asap to carry on with the plot and I swore this would be the last chapter of it. Also, for the length of it, it was kinda rushed - I haven't had much time to dedicate to writing this week unfortunately. But it's out!
> 
> Also, did anybody watch the latest Off Topic (#240)? I guess my fictional Windweaver Alfredo's power sucks XD But honestly, choosing a Burner for this fic was easy; it could only be Michael. Fredo got his because I knew one of the dusk boys just HAD to be the Windweaver and Alfredo was the one I had left over so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	21. Chapter 21

The final truck rolls into Borundcamp military base roughly an hour after dusk. A small crowd waits outside as five exhausted Reds with torn clothes, ruffled hair and heavy eyelids leave the vehicle. Geoff needs help from Gavin and Michael, but once his feet are on the ground he can stand unassisted, though he does harbour a limp.

Alfredo hops down after them, physically unscathed after Geoff’s help. The tyre finally blows as he relinquishes his control over the air. Alfredo turns and finds himself instantly buried within the arms of a broader man. Tim holds him tightly as other Reds surround the new arrivals.

“Hey, Tim,” Alfredo chuckles. “A little tight…”

Tim relaxes his grip as he says, “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m fine.” Alfredo pulls away. “I’m fine."

“You didn’t look it back then.”

The Windweaver shrugs, smiles a tired smile and says, “I have you to thank for saving me again?”

“2-0 now, Fredo. And you’re supposed to be the superhero.”

Behind Tim, Jack pushes gently through the small crowd. He finds Geoff and halts in his tracks. “Oh, Geoff, are you alright?”

Geoff nods and gives Jack a brief hug. “I’ll be fine. Hurts like a bitch, but it’ll heal.”

“We got most of the story from the refugees,” Jack says. The words fall quick from him. “They’ll come for us for this."

Trevor hums in agreement. "We're lucky Matt and Jeremy cut most of their energy supply or they’d descend on us within the day; but as soon as it’s all fixed, word will spread and we’ll be their top priority.”

“I wouldn’t count on it so soon,” Geoff says. “The Silvers are cowardly. They hide behind their powers because they knew nobody could overcome them. Now we’ve challenged that; now they know there are stronger enemies outside their ranks. For once, they won’t be able to throw Reds at a threat and quell it with red blood, and the Silvers won’t throw away Silver lives; they won’t fight without knowing what they’re up against. They won’t launch an attack unless they know they can win.”

“But they can win,” Tim says. “There’s, what, nine, ten of you? And an already depleted small force of Reds. They could crush you.”

“Oh they’d obliterate us,” Geoff says, “But they don’t know that. For all they know, there could be hundreds of Reds with abilities. Thousands, even.”

At that, Trevor’s face twists in a puzzled way. He pushes himself away from the truck that he had been leaning against and says, almost like a voiced thought to himself, “What if there are thousands?”

Michael raises an eyebrow and laughs. “What?”

“No, really. I mean, most of us went twenty, thirty years without even knowing, right? And then there was an accident or an incident or _something_ that made us use our powers for the first time. What if that event never happened?”

“We’d still have powers,” Gavin answers.

“Right!” Trevor exclaims, pointing at Gavin. “But we _wouldn’t know_! Nobody would know! Maybe we could have lived our whole lives without knowing!”

“And you think there are other Reds with powers who don’t know?” Tim asks.

“Maybe hundreds. Maybe thousands!" Trevor's eyes flick upwards and the corner of his lip pulls up as he thinks through his theory. “Our population is something like ten or eleven million, and less than one percent of that are Silver. Powers must be more common among Reds than we thought if we found not only a handful of them, but a handful who had already discovered their abilities. Thousands may even be an underestimate.”

“Alright, well, we’re not going to hinge our chances on a possibility,” Geoff says. “Hope for the best, plan for the worst. Let’s assume we’re all we have. We hardly have the resources to scour the kingdom for a _maybe_. For now, we prepare for the retaliation. I’m assuming, once the Silvers find us, they’ll be sending spies. We should ask that Whisper what we can expect.”

“'That Whisper' has a name, Geoff.”

At her voice, Michael’s fists light up. Alfredo shoves Tim back and steps between him and her. Trevor straightens up as Barbara makes her way through the Reds to stand opposite Geoff with her arms folded and a bored look on her face.

“We agreed together, me and Matt,” Jack says when Geoff’s furious gaze turns on him. “It was unanimous, and not one of her tricks. We couldn’t leave her down there with the Nymph lord you captured. We’re convinced that, for the time being, she’s honest about her intentions here.”

“I’ll tell you everything I can about what threats you’ll face,” Barbara says. “I’ll go through that Nymph lord’s head and tell you what he knows, too. Or you can throw me back in that cell. Your choice.”

“And risk you sneaking off to tell the Silvers how grossly outgunned we are?” Geoff sneers.

Trevor steps up. “I trust her. Give her a chance, Geoff. I’ll take responsibility for her.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Nymph,” Barbara retorts.

“No, no, that’s exactly what you need.” Geoff points at Trevor. “You’re responsible for her from here on out, understand?”

Trevor rolls his eyes and nods. “Yes. And if she runs away or hurts anybody, red blood is on my hands too, I know. I’ll watch her.”

Jack takes a soft sigh of relief, then quickly moves the conversation on. “Most of the refugees are in the arena for now – we set a few of them up in spare rooms, new mothers and babies and the elderly and such. I made stew for everyone; I was about to go cook up a fresh batch.

Geoff nods. “The wounded?”

“Down there with them. I did what I could. Most of them are alright.”

“Then I have work to do before I eat. I’ll be down there if anybody needs anything.”

“But your leg!” Jack protests.

“It’ll be fine. Just bring me new bandages in a few hours,” Geoff says dismissively. He begins to limp inside.

“I’ll go with him,” Alfredo says. “It’s my village that’s down there. My people. I should be with them.”

Jack nods and steps aside to let him through. Tim follows on behind without hesitation.

“Where’s Jeremy?” Trevor asks.

Jack gestures his head back at the base. “In his room. Matt’s up there with him. He hasn’t said a thing since we got back. He’s… shaken up.”

“What happened?” Gavin asks.

“He… um… _‘Oblivioned’_ a guy.” Jack says. Gavin shudders at the thought.

“I’ll go see him,” Trevor says.

Jack stops him promptly. “Ah, uh… Not like that, Trev.”

Trevor gives Jack a confused look. Jack gestures to his clothes. They are bloody and filthy and tattered, particularly where he had been shot. The bullet hole still exists in his shirt. Jack has a point; it’s not exactly a calming look. “Ah.”

“Maybe take a quick shower first.”

“And what about me?” Barbara snaps. “Weren’t you supposed to ‘watch me’?” she adds with a mocking tone.

Trevor shrugs. “I trust you. Just don’t do anything stupid, or Michael will burn you up and it’ll somehow be my fault.” Trevor’s eyes turn on the Burner. “Don’t. You got a problem with her, you come find me, okay?”

Michael huffs and glares at Barbara, but nods. Trevor gives a warning glance to both of them, then hurries inside.

At a timid knock, Jeremy shudders. Matt rises from his chair across from Jeremy and unlocks the door. He opens it to see Trevor, freshly showered and with a clean set of clothes. His hair is still wet and flopped over his forehead – he didn’t care to brush it back or even use his power to dry it before he came.

“Is he alright?” Trevor asks with a low voice. Matt’s eyes lower and he shakes his head solemnly. “Can I come in?”

Matt looks over his shoulder. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Hey, Lil’ J? Trev’s here to see you. Is that okay?”

Jeremy looks up from his hands, then nods slowly. His head drops back into his hands as Matt steps away for Trevor to enter.

Trevor takes a seat tentatively close to Jeremy on the bed. Matt returns to his usual seat, spun around so that he can rest his arms and his head on the back of it.

“Hey, J,” Trevor says softly. “You okay, bud?”

Jeremy gulps, then shakes his head a little. He’s shuddering, Trevor notices.

Trevor places a hand on Jeremy’s arm to soothe him and hold him still. Immediately, Matt tries, and fails, to stop him. The moment Trevor’s hand touches Jeremy, the Oblivion screams and flinches away, falling to the floor where he continues to back off. “DON’T TOUCH ME!”

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay!” Trevor says, his eyes wide.

Jeremy shakes his head and sobs. “Don’t… I’m a monster…”

“You’re not a monster, Jeremy. You’re not. You’re just like me, and Matt, and Geoff and Jack and everyone else.”

“Just… don’t touch me,” he repeats. “If you do I could…” He doesn’t finish his thought, instead shaking his head as if it were too terrible to even think. “No.”

“I get it,” Trevor says. “Hey, we’re all dangerous, in one way or another. We’re powerful. A lot of us could hurt or kill somebody with just a thought. It’d hardly be difficult. But that’s where control comes in, right, Jeremy? We all learn to control our powers so that we don’t hurt the people we love. I know you know how to control your powers, Jeremy. I’ve seen you train with us, hug us, dive on us sometimes. You never used your power against us, or anything you didn’t mean to.”

“I didn’t mean to kill that man,” Jeremy chokes.

“That was different,” Matt says. “He was hostile. You were scared; I was scared too. I thought I was done for. You did it instinctively to save yourself, and to save me. If you didn’t… I don’t know, maybe neither of us would have made it out.”

Jeremy shakes his head. All he can see is the blood and the gore. Though Matt had made sure Jeremy showered well, he was sure he still felt the warmth of the metallic silver blood that sprayed over his body. When he looked at his clean clothes, he still saw the offal coating him that used to be a man.

“You’re a hero,” Trevor says.

“No. No. A monster. I’m a monster,” Jeremy repeats.

Matt and Trevor exchange a glance. Matt frowns and shakes his head. Trevor isn’t so willing to give up.

“Jeremy?” Trevor says. “Can we stay a while? Just to make sure you’re alright?”

“You shouldn’t… But I’d like that.”

“You want some food? I heard Jack is making some stew for everyone.”

“Please,” Jeremy says.

Trevor looks at Matt. “I’ll go. Matt’s going to stay with you, Jeremy. I’ll be back in a few minutes; I won’t be long. Then we’ll stay as long as you need.”

Jeremy nods. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Trevor rises and quietly leaves. He expected the corridor to be empty, but of course who else does he find but Barbara.

The sight of her makes him jump, and he stumbles. “What are you…?”

“Choosing a room,” she answers, without once looking up. “Your Greenwarden told me to. Is this one taken?”

“That’s mine,” Trevor says.

Barbara smirks, then points to the one next door. “That one?”

“Vacant, last time I checked.”

“Good. That’s my room.” She takes a quick peak inside, nods her satisfaction, then closes her door and leans against it. She gestures to Jeremy’s room. “Is he alright?” Trevor raises an eyebrow, to which Barbara rolls her eyes and sighs and says, “Yes, I’m being sincere.”

“He’s fine,” Trevor says cautiously.

“He’s not, Trevor. I don’t need to read your thoughts to see that. He’s taken it bad. But you’re a good friend.”

“I’m just making sure he’s okay.”

“Which is already much further than most Silvers would do for another,” Barbara says. She regards him closely, then asks, “I have been wondering, why do you trust me? You have no reason to – the other Reds see that.”

“I’m trying to look past blood colour. No Silver is my enemy until they come against us or harm a Red. I’d trust a Red that came to us for sanctuary, so I’ll trust a Silver too.”

“Uh huh?” Barbara’s eyes float over him again, and she smirks at the thought she hears in Trevor’s head. “I see,” she says, and with that she turns and vanishes into her room. “Good talk, Nymph.”

Trevor stares at her door in confusion for a moment, then shakes his head and makes his way to the kitchen.


	22. Chapter 22

Trevor shoves the door open with his back and almost falls into Jeremy’s room. He cradles three bowls of stew awkwardly in his arms, and he has something black hanging from his hand.

“I had an idea!” Trevor announces. Matt, still sat in his chair, looks up in shock. Jeremy had made his way back onto the bed, and stares in pitiful confusion. “I had an idea. Eat these up, by the way, they’re still warm,” Trevor says as he sets them down on Jeremy’s desk. He hands one bowl and over to Jeremy personally, then leans against the desk. “I had an idea. You’re worried about your power, right?”

Jeremy flinches, looks down at the warm bowl in his hands, and nods slowly. If he closes his eyes, it could almost feel like the warmth of his power when he uses it. He shudders.

“Right. Well, you can only use it when you touch something, yeah? Contact is essential?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy confirms.

“Well, I went looking through what supplies we have, and I found these!” Trevor proudly presents what he had been holding. He beams reassuringly at Jeremy.

“Gloves?” Matt asks.

“Cotton gloves, yes. I tried them on – they’re comfy.”

Jeremy smiles a little, but shakes his head. “I could blow through them just as easy as anything else, and then everything else is in danger all the same.”

Trevor sits beside Jeremy and hands them over. “That’s not what this is about. Go on, put them on.”

“Tre…”

“Just entertain me for a minute, Jeremy. If you disagree, you can take them off.”

Jeremy glances at Matt, who shrugs but nods. With a sigh, Jeremy puts his food aside and pulls them on. They’re a little big, but they’re comfortable, as Trevor promised.

“Now,” Trevor begins, “If you lose control of your power for whatever reason, you’ll destroy those gloves, right?” Jeremy nods, and Trevor continues. “You want to make a bet with me? I bet if you wear those for a week, they’ll be fine. A month, even.”

“Trevor…”

“I’m serious. Jeremy, I know you. I know you have incredible control – better than anybody else here. Everybody else, we make mistakes. One time I got frustrated and blew a pipe outside – I had to get Jack to come and fix it, remember?”

Jeremy chuckles quietly. “Yeah. And Michael tackled you so that you’d let the water go and it sprayed all over Jack.”

“And Michael,” Trevor says, then laughs. “Do I even need to go on with him? And remember when Gavin froze his own leg to a table and you blew him free? The point is, everybody fucks up. We all lose control of our powers – it’s difficult sometimes. But you don’t, Jeremy. You’ve been here for well over a year, and in that time, how many things have you accidentally destroyed?”

“Trevor, your argument doesn’t apply. I didn’t accidentally destroy something, I destroyed _a person!_ ”

“A person who was threatening your life! You were moments from death! That’s what it took for you to lose control, Jeremy, _life or death!_ I mean, Matt made Alfredo jump once and Alfredo nearly put him through a wall!”

“He did,” Matt confirms, “And it hurt. I wasn’t even trying to scare him – he’s just jumpy.”

“See! If your control was as terrible as half of ours is, we wouldn’t have a home anymore. But it’s not, Jeremy. You’ve got your powers on lock in a way that most of us can only dream of. So keep those gloves on for a week, or however long you want, yeah? And then give them back to me. And if, by some slim to nothing chance, you do lose control, it’ll be the gloves that get it anyway. Sound good?”

Jeremy smiles nervously. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll do that.”

Trevor beams. “Great. Where did I put my food again? I’m starving.”

Jack sits and watches the Red refugees eat or prepare to sleep within the blankets that he had dragged out of the supplies. His own empty bowl sits beside him. The new superpowered Red, Lindsay, had sat with him earlier, and the two had enjoyed a quiet but soothing and friendly conversation, but they had now left him to it to find their friends.

The arena is awfully quiet, to say that so many people are within it. People eat quietly and talk in hushed voices. Many of them cry or sob to themselves or against each other. Jack watches Alfredo comfort a young red-headed woman as she breaks down on his shoulder. Alfredo’s eyes are tearful too – they must have lost somebody in common.

Geoff slumps down on the other side of Jack, grunting at his leg. He shakes his head slowly. “Tim and a few others have been taking the names of missing people. It’s long – it’s far too long,” Geoff says, his eyes downcast.

“You think it’s possible some escaped on their own?” Jack asks.

Geoff shrugs. “It’s possible, but I can’t imagine many did. Burron was entirely flooded out, and the other village, Merethorpe, we evacuated anybody who wasn’t willing to fight.”

Jack sighs solemnly. “We can’t keep trading Red lives like this.”

“We didn’t have a choice. We had to take this fight or the entirety of Burron would be dead, and who knows whether the Silvers would have stopped there.”

“Geoff,” Jack says slowly, “We can’t help every Red rebellion. There’s not enough of us.”

Geoff scowls. “I know.”

“Well, we can’t just keep going on like this!” Jack sighs, “After today, Reds have seen us capture a Silver noble successfully after just one village rose up. We’d be stupid to think none of the others will try the same once word spreads. We need to hit them, Geoff, harder than just their power supply. We need to hit _them_.”

Geoff scoffs. “Any ideas then, Pattillo?”

“No,” Jack admits, “But you had one.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jack shakes his head. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow at breakfast. All of us should be there.”

“Breakfast,” Geoff murmurs, falling into a sigh. “You know, I don’t think many of us will be able to eat tomorrow morning.”

“Why not?” Jack asks.

“The baron’s trial. We’re bringing him before the Reds he ruled over – they can decide what we do with him. Although I think we all know what they’ll choose,” Geoff says. “Somebody should tell Fredo, Trev, Matt and Jeremy.”

“I’ll deal with those three,” Jack says as he stands. “I was going to visit Jeremy before I sleep anyway.”

Geoff nods. “I’ll let Fredo know then, before he sleeps.”

“Do you want me to help you to your room after?” Jack asks.

The healer shakes his head. “No. I’ll stay down here. A few of them asked me to – I think I’m a reassurance.”

“You're a good man, Geoff,” Jack says. He stands, collecting their bowls, and says goodnight to the healer before he leaves him to his thoughts.

“A man died for me today,” Alfredo whispers, mostly to himself. He stares at the ceiling of the arena, laying on a spare blanket that he had folded into a pillow. The lights are off – he can’t see much, but he can hear the Reds around him murmuring quietly or whimpering in grief. Some lucky ones that can sleep snore.

“Hm?” Tim asks. He’s laying about a metre away from Alfredo, facing away. At Alfredo’s words, he half rolled over to squint in his general direction.

“There was an Oblivion. They were coming for me. I hesitated, and this guy tried to save me. The Oblivion killed him. It was awful. I didn’t know the guy – I don’t think I even saw his face properly.” Alfredo clenches his fists. “If I didn’t freeze!”

“Fredo,” Tim interrupts. “It happens. It’s not your fault. He probably knew what he was doing.”

“I should have saved him.”

“You can’t save everyone. For all your power, you’re as human as the rest of us. We’re going to lose people, Fredo, and you can’t blame yourself for that. And if you spin it around, sure, you failed once, but how many people did you save today? You saved half of Burron at least.”

“Trevor saved half of Burron.”

“Trevor wouldn’t have been there if not for you. And at Merethorpe – you held that army back singlehandedly. You bought us precious minutes. How many more people would we have lost if we had to fight for even one more minute?”

“Tim, if I didn’t find my damn powers, everyone would be alive today. The man who saved me, and Annabel, and _everyone_.”

“And we’d all feel as hopeless as we always had,” Tim fires back. “Nobody here wishes you’d never found your powers. If anything, they’re just thankful that you came back. I don’t think anybody would blame you if you didn’t.”

Alfredo sighs. “I don’t blame them for how they reacted. I know it was a lot easier to believe I was some Silver than… whatever the hell I am.”

“What do you call yourselves, anyway?” Tim asks. “Rilvers?” he chuckles.

Alfredo smiles at the joke. “No. Anything but that. We don’t really call ourselves anything. We have red blood so we call ourselves Reds.”

“But you’re more than that,” Tim says. “More than Silver, too. You’re a new type of blood. Hey, how about that? ‘Newbloods’?”

“We’re not a new type of blood, Tim.”

“You’re a new _something_. That’s it – that’s what I’m calling you guys from now on. Newbloods: Red and Silver and stronger than both. I’ll make it stick.”

Alfredo rolls his eyes. “And we don’t get a say in it?”

“You’ve had plenty of time to come up with something better, but I’m not hearing it.”

“Alright, alright, call us what you want.” Alfredo rolls over and closes his eyes. “Sure, I’m a Newblood,” he says as if to try the word out. He doesn’t hate it.

Tim shuts his eyes with a small smile on his face at the victory, and then settles to sleep. A few moments later he notices a small movement in the air as Alfredo draws into himself.

“Fredo?” Tim whispers.

“Yeah?”

“You remember your first house, and how it had that air draft that drove you crazy? And then you got the new place and it had that same draft?”

Alfredo chuckles softly. “Yeah, I get it. I could have stopped it any time.”

“No, Fredo. I don’t think you ever had a draft.”

Alfredo raises an eyebrow, then his eyes grow wide and he rolls over and stares at Tim’s silhouette as if he had given him the secret to the universe. “Holy fuck, you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil' more fluff this chapter. I think we need it for what's coming up.


	23. Chapter 23

Barbara laughs aloud at Geoff’s words. “You want to _what?!_ ”

“Infiltrate the king’s own palace,” Geoff repeats, narrowing his eyes. “We need to send them a message as clear as day: we’re here and we could be anywhere, including in their homes and palaces. The Silver nobles understand one thing: fear. If we want them to listen to us, they need to fear us. We need _the king_ to fear us. This is how we do it.”

The Reds sit or stand around the cafeteria for breakfast. Geoff sits by Gavin as he explains his plan, while Jack works absentmindedly behind the counter, preparing more food for their refugees. Matt, Jeremy and Alfredo sit at a table in the corner. Jeremy says nothing as he eats while Alfredo pushes his food around with a spoon. Michael sits close to Jack’s counter with Lindsay. As the others speak, Michael whispers names and powers to them, and Lindsay nods enthusiastically. They had already been introduced to everyone, but felt quite overwhelmed and needed a reminder. Trevor leans against the table that Barbara is sat at alone.

“So, what,” Barbara mocks, “ _You're_ going to just walk in there? Dressed as Silvers? You guys? _Silvers?!_ ”

“Some of us,” Geoff confirms. “Some of us will act as Red servants.”

Barbara laughs again. “But you’re all so… I mean, _look at you!_ I can see the redness under your skin. And your mannerisms, and your accents, and your looks, it’s all so… _Red!_ ”

“Right,” Geoff says. “That’s where you come in, Silver.”

“ _Me?!_ ”

“Yes, you! We’re not keeping you around for nothing. You’ll teach us to be Silver, and dress us like Silvers, and make us look Silver. I see you’ve already found a stash of make-up here.”

Barbara shakes her head, still giggling at the prospect. “I’m sorry, Geoff, but it just can’t be done.”

“We’re not asking for much, Barbara,” Trevor says. “We don’t need an in-depth study into the history, politics and culture of Silvers. We just need to pass as one of them for maybe a few hours. We’re not even asking you to teach us to act like nobles – we can get in there as common Silvers, right?”

“Sure, but you’ll never get close to the king as a common Silver. Even I’ve never been within reading distance of him.”

“I think that might be intentional,” Geoff says.

Barbara shoots him a look, tosses her hair back over her shoulder and continues. “What I’m trying to say is that this is a stupid and insanely risky plan. So much could go wrong so easily. One minor fuck-up and people will be watching you like hawks, and there is no way that any of you are going to pass as Silvers with that much scrutiny regardless of how well I teach you. Not to mention all the other risks. If you cut yourselves, or use more than a fraction of your powers, or even if you stay too long and your make-up fades, that’s it! Game over! And not even you guys could fight your way out of that palace when everything inevitably goes wrong.”

Barbara doesn’t need to read thoughts to know that the Reds don’t want to listen to her warnings, but nevertheless they spell it out for her anyway. She scowls as she goes on. “Look, I know most of you don’t trust me, but I’m the only one with any experience inside that court, and for fuck sake, _I’ve been inside their heads!_ Your plan will never work – not with so few of you. If you go ahead with it, you’re throwing away any chance at blood equality. The Silvers will destroy you, and the Reds will lose their miracle.”

“And if we do nothing,” Geoff argues, “Then sooner or later they’ll come for us here and destroy us, and everybody else they find.”

“I’m obviously not advising you to do nothing,” Barbara says, “ _Just not this_. Taking out their electricity seemed to work well – the radio was still down this morning and nobody’s here for us yet. This is the first time anything like that has happened – the Silvers are probably confused and afraid. And they rely on Reds for repairs and maintenance of anything technical – it could take weeks for them to recover from that. Why don’t you hit them like that again? Destroy their food supply or something?”

Geoff shakes his head solemnly. “If we do that, they’ll just take from the Reds instead or produce their own like we do. We’d only be hurting Reds.”

“Then attack communications towers, or weapons supplies, or finish off what you started and liberate the Nymph baron’s territory. His house are probably walled up in their manor expecting you to come for them!”

“It’s not enough. Will you help us or not?”

Trevor places a tender hand on her arm. “Barb,” he says softly, “Please.”

She stares at him for a moment while he puts forward his case silently. She shakes her head in disbelief and murmurs, “Insanity. Alright, I’ll help.”

Trevor and Geoff meet eyes in their surprise. “Okay,” Geoff says after a short pause. “Then it’s settled. We’ll send scouts out there as soon as we can.”

“I’ll go!” Lindsay perks up, raising their hand. When attention turns to them, they lower their arm and looks shyly to Michael, then Trevor. “Um, Trevor said I should be able to see through the eyes of the animals I control. I’m going to practice today – if I get it, I think I could be a good scout.”

Geoff glances to Michael, who shrugs. “Lindsay can take care of themself,” Michael says.

The healer nods. “I’ll think about it. For now,” he sighs, pushing himself to his feet. His leg still causes him pain, and Gavin moves to support him. “We need to deal with that baron,” Geoff grunts.

“I’ll get him,” Jack says almost solemnly. He finishes his glass of water and rises.

“Take Trevor with you, just in case,” Geoff suggests. Trevor nods at them both, and the two men make their way out. “Meet us down in the arena,” Geoff calls after them.

Jack and Trevor march Baron Locke into the arena. Locke’s hands are bound tightly behind his back by tough, thick wood carved into handcuffs by Jack. Trevor watches the Nymph lord closely while he feels the flow of any and all water around him through his ability, ensuring the flow is still natural and unmanipulated.

Locke fixes his eyes ahead as he is forced through the crowd of onlooking Reds to the centre of the arena. There are no children here, nor teenagers. They have been moved elsewhere for the duration of the trial, along with those who want no part in it. Locke’s face twists in a scowl.

Waiting for him in the centre of the crowd is Geoff, who gives the baron a hard look. At the front of the crowd of Reds, the baron finds that Red Windweaver, stood beside his unremarkable Red companion that had saved him in Burron. Alfredo’s eyes are cast downwards, so he misses the mocking smirk that the baron throws at him.

But then the baron’s eyes shift to the woman stood beside the Red Windweaver. A Silver woman, and one that the baron vaguely recognises, though no name or ability comes to mind. She recognises him too, and she scowls in a way that almost looks like she is baring teeth at him.

Geoff halts the baron, and vines curl up from the ground to twist around his legs, preventing him from running. The baron doesn’t fight it – his attention is fixed on the Silver traitor. Jack nods to Trevor to indicate that Locke is secure, and Trevor takes his place between Barbara and Matt.

Geoff stands before their prisoner, doing his best to keep a neutral and fair face. “You are accused of treason and crimes against the people of your lands and Aveond,” Geoff says clearly. “How do you plead?”

The baron spits. “Innocent. Obviously.”

The crowd roars at that. The healer holds a hand up to silence them, and looks Locke dead in the eye. “You’re accused of the murder of hundreds of innocent Reds.”

“I think you’ll find, rat, that what you’re accusing me of isn’t a crime for a man of my standing.” Locke smirks at the healer’s furious expression. “I could kill every Red and every freak of nature like you in the kingdom, and you still couldn’t bring a legitimate charge against me.”

“Newbloods,” Tim corrects boldly. He grins at the baron’s fury that a Red would so freely and fearlessly speak out of term. “They’re called Newbloods, not freaks.”

“Are we?” Matt whispers to Trevor. Trevor just shrugs.

Locke rolls his eyes. “A fanciful name. There’s certainly no laws to protect you freaks, whatever you are.”

“Well we’re not trying you by the king’s laws; we’re trying you by our own morals, for crimes against Reds,” Geoff snaps.

The baron laughs aloud. “Then this is nothing but a kangaroo court! A minor grievance could be enough for you savages to send me to my death! It doesn’t matter what I’ve done or what is true, only what you want!”

Barbara steps up. “Careful what you say; there’s more than a few here who don’t believe you even deserve a trial.”

Locke stares at her. He tilts his head in his confusion. “And you agree with the rats?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know what they’ll decide yet. We’ll see if I agree.” She stands before him, staring into his eyes. He realises far too late what is happening. “I’ve seen all I need to see,” she says, backing away to stand by Geoff’s side. “As if you need more evidence. There’s no definite number; there’s probably plenty that he’s forgotten about entirely, but I saw dozens of Reds drown by his hand.”

“Whisper!” Locke spits.

“Thank you,” Geoff says to Barbara. She offers him a sweet smile, then rejoins Trevor. Geoff turns to the Reds. “Regardless, I think most of us saw enough evidence yesterday. Now, we’ll vote on his guilt. Those who believe the man before you to be guilty of his accused crimes, please stand to my right. Those who believe him to be innocent, please stand to my left.”

The Reds move quietly as they decide the baron’s fate. It is, of course, a unanimous decision. Locke rolls his eyes and laughs. “What a farce.”

“Guilty,” Geoff says, as if it had to be said. He begins to speak again, only to be cut off when Alfredo steps up. He rushes to Geoff’s side and whispers directly into his ear.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” the baron spits.

Alfredo ignores him, finishes what he was saying, and he and Geoff look over to Trevor, who nods. “I agree with him,” Trevor says. “We spoke about it a lot.”

“I understand your point,” Geoff says, “And that’s why we’ll vote on it.”

“But…!”

Geoff cuts Alfredo off. “You can put forward your case in a moment. Let me explain what’s going to happen first.” The healer once again addresses the crowd. “It’s too dangerous to ransom the baron back to the Silvers, so we are left with two options: incarceration or execution.”

“Do I get a vote?” Locke mocks.

“Geoff!” Alfredo protests. One look quiets him.

“If we choose execution,” Geoff continues solemnly, “It will be by my hand. It will be quick and painless. It is the most humane death anybody can be offered.”

“No,” the baron interrupts. He looks past Geoff. “I want that one to do it.”

Alfredo sinks back. “No. No way. Absolutely not.”

“You don’t get a say in this. We will give you a painless death and nothing less,” Geoff says.

“You’d think a man should get a say in his own death,” Locke spits. “He’s my subject; I want him to do it. That, or let your false Nymph drown me, if he can. Or both. Suffocate me, and then let the waters take me.”

Geoff glares at him, then speaks slowly and clearly annunciates his words. “You’ll die by my hand, not theirs.”

“And we don’t have to kill you,” Trevor adds with a loud, clear voice. He steps forward, pacing before the Reds he begins to address. “The Silvers answer their enemies in violence and blood. In our position, they would execute this man without hesitation. But we are not Silver,” he calls to them, “We are not Silver! And do we really want to be like them? Do we really want to answer blood-shedding with more blood-shedding? Or do we want to be better than them? Whatever we choose, we send a message to them. We can send the message that we are as ruthless and blood-thirsty as they are, or we can send the message that we don’t fear their existence, and we will not snuff it out for our own safety as they have done to us. We are Red, and we are human, and we can make our own justice without making monsters of ourselves.”

Many of the Reds shout their agreement, others stay silent or mumble their disagreement. Trevor doesn’t blame them; Locke and his house have oppressed them all their lives and possibly killed many of their friends and family. But Trevor is joined by Jack, who voices his support for Trevor’s message and stands beside him, and on the other side Alfredo nudges his arm and nods. Even Barbara smiles her approval to him.

“COWARDS!” Locke roars. “I can’t think of a more dishonourable way to treat a prisoner than to throw them in a cell and forget about them! Just grow a spine and end it!”

“Enough!” Geoff growls. “If nobody else has anything to say, we’ll vote now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was a little longer than I intended it to be and I probably could have split it into two chapters but oh well.
> 
> So should they kill him or spare him? Or rather, will they kill him or spare him?


	24. Chapter 24

The vote is close, and Trevor’s heart sinks as he watches the opposing votes swell. But he understands, of course he understands.

None of the other Newbloods, as Tim had called them, voted against Trevor as far as he can tell, and that at least brings him some reassurance, though he’s sure that most of them wouldn’t mind too much if the baron died. If they were distrustful of Barbara, they’ll be even less happy to host this Silver in their captivity.

Beside him, Alfredo twitches and shivers with nerves. Tim had opted to vote against them, for execution, and though Alfredo had pleaded with him to reconsider, he didn’t stop him. Trevor lays a hand on Alfredo’s shoulder and says, “If they win, Geoff will do it, Fredo, not you. Nobody can make you, least of all him, and especially not when you’ve objected at every opportunity.”

“She can make me do it,” he worries.

“Barbara? She’s stood with us. She doesn’t like Locke any more than we do; she’ll hardly cross us to give him what he wants.”

Alfredo glances over Trevor’s shoulder to find Barbara. “She has her hooks in you deep. I don’t like it.”

“I’m just trying to be fair to her.”

“I get it,” Alfredo frowns at her. “I still don’t like it.”

“Will you at least trust me when I say that you won’t be the one to do it? I’ll make sure of it. I’ll even take your place if I have to; he asked for you or me, remember?”

Alfredo eyes the growing votes against them. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “I trust you.”

Geoff begins by counting the opposing votes. He counts aloud and with a clear voice so that anybody can correct him if he makes a mistake. In the end, he declares: “A hundred and seventy-eight.”

Trevor’s breath catches: that’s a huge number, and he’s not entirely sure exactly how many Reds are present to vote. He knows they rescued somewhere over four hundred, but that includes children and those who abdicated their vote to avoid the trial and stay with those too young to vote.

Geoff looks solemn as he counts the votes for incarceration. The room is silent aside from his counting, and it seems to drag on and on. When Geoff declares: “A hundred and eighty-nine,” Trevor releases a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He offers Alfredo a smile and sighs in relief.

“NO!” Locke roars. Around his bound arms, water from the air condenses around him. Reds scream and scramble back, but Trevor darts forward and catches the water under his own influence. It’s not enough to cancel out the influence of the baron, the two are almost equally matched in their power, but it stops the baron from using the water as a weapon against anybody with Trevor reigning it in.

A moment later, Barbara is at his side. She glares at Locke and his power falters, allowing Trevor to safely draw the water away. The baron spits at her, “Traitor.”

“Geoff!” Trevor calls. Geoff doesn't need the prompting; he is only a few paces away by the time Trevor calls to him. He places his hand over the baron’s bound wrist, and the baron collapses into unconsciousness where he is caught by Jack. Trevor throws the water to the ground and nods his thanks to the two of them.

“Incarceration,” Geoff declares.

Trevor lays back on his bed – he hadn’t slept well the night before, but he can't bring himself to sleep now, either. His mind races. Sure, the baron has been put away, and they are safe from him at least, but there is still a long way to go.

Above him, he manipulates a small stream of water, lapping it around his finger, then in a ring, and then into a ball, and then into a small wave that his other hand catches. He does it absentmindedly, but it calms him to feel the water move and hear it splash and trickle and flow. How nice it would be, he thinks, to live beside a small stream, or a fountain.

Supposedly the baron’s home has a fountain that spans four storeys and is carved to tell a story of the seas conquering the land. Supposedly, it is a beauty to behold, befitting the most powerful Nymph in the kingdom. Trevor chuckles softly to himself. ‘ _I’m the most powerful Nymph in the kingdom,_ ’ he thinks.

‘ _How humble,_ ’ a voice giggles. Trevor all but screams, and with the loss of his concentration the water he had been toying with falls, splashing over his face. He splutters and wipes it away quickly and sits up, staring around his certainly empty room. The voice reappears. ‘ _In your head, Nymph._ ’

“Barbara! What the hell?”

‘ _I was going to my room,_ ’ she explains, ‘ _But you were thinking so loud._ ’

“That’s not an invite into my head,” he argues.

She giggles again. ‘ _I don’t need an invite._ ’

“Okay, okay, we’re going to need some sort of consent thing.”

‘ _Do you control when you can feel the water around you?_ ’

Trevor ponders, and she’s right; every waking moment, he can feel the waters around him in the back of his mind. It’s easy to ignore if he wants to, and not an unpleasant sense anyway. “Uh… No?”

‘ _So you think I have any control in hearing minds?_ ’

“You should keep that from the others,” Trevor says, “That will only make them more uncomfortable around you.”

‘ _Believe me, I know._ ’

Trevor shakes his head as if he could get her out of it. “Ugh… This is weird. You can come in and talk to me face to face if you like. Just no more of this talking in my brain.”

His door swings open and Barbara stands smiling at him. “It’s a cool party trick, no?” she asks.

“I prefer Matt’s tricks,” Trevor says. He gestures to a seat for her. “So what are you doing up here? I thought you’d want to watch the others train?”

“I was,” she admits, “But the only three of you that are training are the Burner and the Shiver. I couldn’t take any more of that Shiver’s dumb slapstick performance.”

Trevor chuckles. “Gavin has a tendency to not take it entirely seriously, especially against Michael. He knows he can’t beat him anyway.”

“Hm,” is all Barbara says. Trevor raises an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Trevor says, “You just look like you had something to say.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head, “Just thinking.”

“About…?”

She smirks and leans back on the chair, crossing her arms over herself as if to defend her thoughts. “That’s private.”

“Oh, so _your_ thoughts are private, but mine are anyone’s game?”

Barbara shrugs and turns her head away, blushing a pale white. She looks back at him through her eyelashes. “What are _you_ thinking about, Trevor?” she asks.

“Why bother asking?”

She grins. “So is that an invite into your head?”

‘ _I know you’re in here anyway,_ ’ Trevor thinks.

Barbara’s eyes widen, and her smile grows. “I’ll admit, I’m in your head a lot when you’re near. It’s the least hostile mind I’ve found in years. All the others either hate me or entirely distrust me. If I must hear what somebody thinks of me, I’ll choose you any day. It helps that you think loud thoughts.”

“I think loud thoughts,” Trevor repeats, bemused.

“It’s hard to explain,” Barbara says. “Your thoughts jump out at me more than most. Not like Gavin’s, I swear I could hear his thoughts from across the kingdom, but you stand out.”

Trevor laughs. “So who thinks quiet thoughts?”

“It’s not that simple. Emotional thoughts stick out to me, so it depends on the context. But on average, I think your Shadow is quietest. I hardly notice him sometimes. And Alfredo, he’s quiet too, though at breakfast he may as well have been shouting at me. All he could think about was the trial; I’m not even sure he processed any of that conversation. And Jeremy, he’s been almost silent to me since he blew that guy up. He used to be like Gavin and Michael; that’s how I know something is definitely not okay, and I don’t think it will be for a while."

“So, what you’re saying,” Trevor ponders, “Is that if we have confidential information, it’s best to give it to Matt Bragg?”

Barbara snorts, then turns serious. “If a Whisper wants information, they’ll get it out of you regardless. But if you want to get past a Whisper without arousing suspicion, sure, send Matt, or learn to act even in your minds. It’s a skill you pick up after living around Whispers for twenty-five years.”

“Can you teach us?” Trevor asks.

“You mean in addition to teaching you guys to be Silver? Fuck it, sure, the odds of any success are about the same.”

“You have remarkably low faith in us, to say that you’re relying on us.”

She laughs. “A bunch of overpowered Reds with no formal training whatsoever and more ambition than the king himself, in way over their heads? No, I have zero faith in you to pull this off. Don’t get me wrong, I’m rooting for you, but if you ask me I’d bet my family’s fortune on your failure.”

Trevor opens his mouth to speak, but Barbara cuts him off with her palm. “I know what you think, Trevor. It’s cute. Real cute. But you can’t flood your way to peace and equality. You’re just a Red; you’re all just Reds. Miraculous Reds, maybe, but just Reds, and soon enough the Silvers will be rid of you just like every other problematic Red in history. And I’ll be sorry to see you go, Trevor.”

That night, the arena is much sparser than it had been the night before. They had managed to prepare better accommodation for many more refugees that day, and only about fifty Reds remain in the arena. Geoff had opted to stay with them again; many told him they slept sounder knowing he is near, and it is the least he can do for the men and women who lost their homes and, in many cases, their families. He took a chair, a box to rest his injured leg on, a small lamp and a book and made his camp in the corner. Alfredo stayed too; he won’t leave any of them defenceless.

Close to midnight, Geoff’s eyes flicker up from his book at a slight, sudden noise. The sleeping Red refugees don’t seem to react. A few of the ones remaining awake look up, and some look to Geoff. His inaction reassures them, and they lie back down without prompting.

The vast majority of Reds are sound asleep, including Alfredo. He sleeps towards the back of the room beside Tim. The two had a heated argued earlier in the day about Locke’s trial, but ultimately they are inseparable and agreed to disagree before anybody was swept away by a hurricane.

Geoff shrugs the noise off and returns to his book. He makes it a blissful few sentences before a sudden bang in the centre of the room goes off.

Reds across the training ground wake up with a scream as a Shadow’s cloak falls away, revealing four men unfamiliar to Geoff. One of them is holding a pistol, pointed to the ceiling, and it is smoking. “Everybody, line up at the back of the room, NOW!” he snarls.

At the sound of the gun, Alfredo had shuddered awake and dived to a kneeling position immediately, scanning for the noise, though he feels strangely groggy and heavy as he does. At the command, he finds it.

As Reds begin to flee past them screaming towards the wall, Tim asks, “Fredo?!”

“Silvers! Tim, go!” Alfredo commands. He doesn’t wait to listen to Tim’s protests and instead runs to stand firmly between the Silvers and the Reds. He narrows his eyes at the leader, a tall greying-blond man with pale skin. “Drop the gun, surrender, and nobody gets hurt!” Alfredo warns.

“We don’t have time for this charade, Red,” the one with the gun spits.

Alfredo grits his teeth. “Drop the gun,” he repeats. “I mean it.”

The man with the gun shrugs, takes a step forward and raises the pistol towards Alfredo. Alfredo reacts in kind, summoning a great gust to scatter the men.

At least, he tries to. When Alfredo directs the wind with his arms and hands, it does not follow. It doesn’t move at all. With hasty breaths, Alfredo realises he can’t _feel_ the air as he should. He can’t feel its presence at the back of his mind; he can’t feel the urge to weave it into his bidding. It is as if it is gone entirely.

And now he’s staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Fredo!” Tim shouts, “Do something!”

“You heard the man,” the Silver with the gun says, “Do something.”

The colour drains from Alfredo’s skin and he fights the urge to collapse to his knees in his fear. “I… I can’t…” he stutters.

“What’s that? A little louder for the ones in the back.”

Alfredo feels the terrified gazes of the men and women relying on him. His eyes drop and he stares at his hands. “I… can’t…”

“He can’t!” the Silver announces. He lowers the gun, holstering it in his side, and says, “Where is my daughter?”

“What?” Alfredo asks, his eyes coming to meet the Silver’s. A presence strikes into his mind suddenly, tearing through his thoughts and memories and his very being. In shock, Alfredo falls to his knees. He grabs his head and screams.

‘ _WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!_ ’ a voice echoes, far too loud. It drags him through every significant memory in his head, and despite its seeming urgency, it seems to linger on the particularly painful ones such as Locke’s torture and his near-drowning and his outcast from Burron. ‘ _You’re afraid, Red. Very afraid. You should be. When I find my daughter, I am going to tear your mind apart piece by piece, until there’s nothing left of you but a broken core, and drag you before the king to face his wrath. And the other Reds? I’ll skin them alive, starting with Gettys. You’re going to watch, and you’re going to be powerless._ ’

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Alfredo cries. “I don’t know where your damn daughter is, just GET OUT!”

“Let him go!” Tim demands. “Whatever you’re doing, stop!”

The Whisper finally finds what he was looking for. He lingers on a memory of Barbara inside her cell. Alfredo feels the burning rage of the presence in his mind as it seethes: ‘ _Where is she?_ ’

Alfredo's thoughts betray him. He knows exactly where Barbara’s new bedroom is – next door to Trevor’s – she picked it herself. Mercifully, the Whisper finally releases his grasp on Alfredo’s mind, leaving him crumpled on the ground gasping for breaths as he calms down.

“Umbre, with me. Vale, Nihil, stay here. Make sure the Red rats don’t try anything.”

“Yes, sir,” the other three Silvers say. One of the younger ones departs with Barbara’s father. They leave a pale young blond Silver and a dark-haired, olive-coloured Silver with a near unblinking stare.

The younger approaches Alfredo as he rises. “Was this what you wanted to do?” he asks, thrusting his hand towards Alfredo. The gust he weaves throws Alfredo back over the heads of the Reds behind him. He hits hard against the wall and falls to the ground with a crash, gasping and holding his chest. “Stay in the dirt where you belong, Red,” the Silver Windweaver spits.

Geoff slips through the crowd as quietly as he can, and as quickly as his leg will allow, watching as Alfredo tries to push himself up. He’s hurt. Fortunately, the Silvers seem to have moved on, deeming Alfredo no longer a threat. Geoff lays behind a few Reds and stretches a hand out towards Alfredo, who notices and reaches back and clasps his hand. He floods his ability through Alfredo, nullifying the pain. “Are you alright?” Geoff whispers as loud as he dares.

Alfredo can’t even look at him as he whispers with a broken voice, “My powers are gone. Geoff, my powers…”


	25. Chapter 25

Barbara wakes slowly. It’s still dark when she opens her eyes, though she can see a stream of moonlight falling through the curtains. If she reached out, she could probably touch it. She makes a satisfied exhale and turns her head to the left.

Trevor is still asleep, resting almost on his chest. His mouth is slightly agape and he has drooled a little. His arm is still draped lazily around Barbara’s abdomen. He wears only his boxers; the rest of his clothes are strewn across the floor with Barbara’s. With his ruffled, slightly-sweat coated hair, she thinks he looks somehow more attractive than usual.

She plays with his hair gently, twisting a lock lazily around her finger, and her lips curl up in a soft smile. Trevor is dreaming. It’s not a dream that makes sense, not in any way to Barbara, but Trevor’s mind feels calm and content. It must be a relieving respite from the nightmares that Trevor claimed had plagued his sleep the night before. There is no violence in this dream, no fighting or suffering. It is peaceful.

Barbara pauses suddenly. She lays motionless for a few moments, then sits. At the movement, Trevor rouses. He squints through one eye at her. “Hm?”

“There’s another Whisper,” Barbara murmurs.

“Another… hm? Barb, it’s the middle of the night.”

“I mean it, Trevor! Wake up, wake up now!” she shakes him and grabs a dressing gown from the floor. Trevor watches her slip it on in a state of barely conscious confusion. As soon as she ties it, the door bursts open.

Barbara screams and scrambles back onto the bed as two men storm inside. Trevor immediately rises, grabbing Barbara’s wrist with one hand while the other summons water to lap around his wrist in an open threat. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“DAD?!” Barbara cries.

“What?!”

One of the men, Barbara’s father, turns ghostly white as he glares at Trevor. His breathing is heavy and fast. When he speaks, it is through clenched teeth, and while he directs it at Barbara, his eyes never stray from Trevor. “I thought they kidnapped you.”

“Dad, don’t…”

“I came here to save my daughter, and instead I find her IN BED WITH A RED?! Worse, an abomination, parading around with a Silver marvel and filth blood.”

“I don’t need rescuing!” Barbara growls. “I came here myself! ME!”

“And why on earth would you do that?!” he snarls.

“Because you wouldn’t listen! I am not your chip to bargain away for political power!”

“If this gets out, you won’t be good for anything.”

Barbara stands. “If that’s the case, I’ll scream it from the rooftops!”

At that, her father makes a move to strike her. Trevor puts himself between them and catches the fist. “Don’t do this,” Trevor warns.

“I don’t take orders from Reds.”

“Fine, don’t. I’ve fought tougher Silvers than you and won.”

Barbara grabs Trevor’s arm and splutters quickly, “Listen to me, Trev, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You’ve never fought anything like me,” the Whisper seethes.

“Dad, DON’T!” Barbara wails.

Trevor’s body shudders. The water at his wrist falls to the ground and Barbara’s father whispers, “Kneel.” As much as Trevor resists, he is ultimately unable to disobey and falls to his knees.

Barbara grabs her father’s arm and pulls him back. “STOP! Let him go!”

He grabs her jaw. “There is far too much love in you for Red rats. Come with me.”

Dunkelman and the Shadow, Umbre, drag Barbara and Trevor down to the training grounds. Barbara’s heart sinks when she sees so many Reds held captive. Before the crowd, her father shoves her into the arms of the Windweaver, Vale, who locks her arms behind her back. Trevor is shoved to his knees. He still shudders with the effort to resist the Whisper’s control, to call to his element, to fight back, but he can’t break through.

Dunkelman grabs a Red, a young woman with auburn hair, and drags her screaming until he throws her before Trevor. “Kill it,” he instructs.

Trevor resists. With all his might, he resists, so much so that sweat beads on his forehead. But the presence in his mind, it forces its will on him. Trevor grunts with the effort, but even so, water rises from his hands slowly. All he can do is think, ‘ _No, no, no… Stop!_ ’ as he watches the water come to the call that isn’t truly his. ‘ _No…_ ’

In her panic, Barbara scans the Red crowd searching for one specific mind. Alfredo always stays with the refugees. He must be here.

She finds him easily enough – while most Reds feel mostly utter terror, Alfredo’s mind instead radiates frustration, and helplessness, and sorrow. He isn’t afraid like the others, or rather his fear is redirected. He’s angry. She projects a thought into his mind. ‘ _Alfredo, help us!_ ’

The slam of resistance she feels in response is almost jarring enough to make her physically stumble. When it doesn’t drive her presence from his mind, she is very forcefully presented with a short but vividly clear memory of Alfredo’s attempt to face her father. ‘ _My powers are gone!_ ’ he thinks.

‘ _No, no, that’s not possible. Powers aren’t lost – they can never be lost. No, you must be silenced._ ’

‘ _Silenced?_ ’

‘ _It’s another Silver ability. Silences can take powers away, but it takes concentration, and it’s only temporary. One of these men must be a Silence. Get ready, Alfredo, I’m going to free you._ ’

Alfredo tilts his head away from the Silvers and whispers in a low voice to Geoff, “Get back.” Geoff raises an eyebrow, but he obeys and quietly skulks away from Alfredo into the crowd.

Barbara finds the Silence in the man she doesn’t recognise, Nihil. His eyes drift over the Red crowd to intimidate them, but in reality, his attention is locked on Alfredo. To his credit, Nihil is struggling. Alfredo’s powers are much stronger than this Silence is used to.

She pushes into his mind, grabs control for as long as she can and demands: ‘ _STOP!_ ’

Near instantaneously, the heaviness Alfredo feels pressing down on him is gone and the air launches into motion. Reds scramble back in shock and fear, but the wind does not come for them. It swirls down into a great but well-controlled whirlwind. In the centre of it all, Alfredo rises. Emotion boosts power, and he looks _furious_.

Vale, the Silver Windweaver, tries to throw him back, to take him off his feet. The pathetic wind he weaves never comes close to landing a hit; Alfredo sweeps it up into his own storm. When his eyes fall on Vale, the Silver whimpers, releases Barbara and backs away.

Alfredo launches a gust over the heads of the nearby Reds, slamming into the Silvers. Even Barbara is flung back, though a merciful wind breaks her fall. The hit broke her father’s concentration, and Trevor is freed from his control.

Alfredo rushes to the aid of the near-drowned Red girl and supports her. “You alright, Rosie?” he asks. She nods through her coughs and gasps for breath. “That’s it, breathe, you’re good. Go, get out of here.” Louder, Alfredo shouts to the Reds, “All of you, get out of here, get to safety!”

“TREVOR!” Barbara darts to his side. Initially, Trevor offers her a slight, if worried, smile, and a sigh of relief when the girl he was supposed to drown runs away. When Barbara is close enough, however, the smile fades, and Barbara is greeted with a harsh slap across the face.

She reels back. Trevor looks horrified and mutters an apology before he turns his attention to her father. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“You can’t reason with him, Trevor,” Barbara says, holding her cheek as it blooms silver. “He never listened to me; he’ll certainly never listen to you.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Trevor asks.

She blinks back tears as she looks at her father. “If you have to kill him, I’ll understand. He’s dangerous.”

“No,” Trevor promises, “I’ll find another way.” He stands and helps Barbara up with him, then glances over his shoulder at a commotion behind him. Alfredo is shouting every curse under the sun at one of the Silvers, the Silence, and the Silence is firing right back. Alfredo isn’t using his powers, and he looks about ready to throw himself into an uncharacteristic fistfight.

Barbara is moments away from controlling the Silence again to release Alfredo when her father takes control of _her_. ‘ _Leave him be,_ ’ he commands, and Barbara can only whimper.

It at least gets Trevor’s attention again, and he scowls at Barbara’s father. Water rises from the ground and condenses into a stream around Trevor. He stretches a hand out to command it but shudders when he loses control again.

Barbara stumbles back, searching the arena. She finds Tim at the exit, scurrying the last of the Reds out. “Tim!” she cries. The Red looks to her in confusion, fear, and resentment. “Help Alfredo!” she cries. Into his head, she projects: ‘ _That Silver is taking Alfredo’s powers away. You need to distract him or knock him out! Don’t be afraid of him; his power only works on people with marvels. You can take him._ ’

“I don’t need you to tell me who I can or can’t take, _Silver,_ ” Tim spits, and then he sprints like a bull. The Silver Windweaver makes an attempt to stop him, but Barbara pushes into his mind and halts him in his tracks for long enough for Tim to tackle the Silence and slam him into the wall.

For the second time, the wind whips to life, and with Tim pounding on the Silence’s face as he drags him from the room, it won’t be taken from Alfredo again. With a fire in his eyes that rages as much as the wind that batters against him and begs for a command, Alfredo sets his sight on Vale, the Silver Windweaver who had tried to threaten Tim. Vale is smart enough to run, but there was never any hope that he would escape. With one quick motion from Alfredo, the wind that Vale is so used to obeying him turns against him and throws him hard against the wall, leaving a splatter of metallic silver blood. He is probably left in a serious condition, if not dead, but Alfredo is far beyond mercy.

Barbara moves to try to snap Trevor from her father’s control, only to be grabbed from behind first by the hair and then by the throat. Umbre, her father’s Shadow, puts a gun to her head as a veil drops around them. “Don’t make a noise,” he warns, “And no mind tricks, _missy._ ”

The wind still roars with Alfredo’s fury, ripping at his clothes and his hair, but Alfredo stands as if he hardly notices. His attention turns on Barbara’s father and raises a hand to weave his storm against the Whisper.

He doesn’t get a chance, for a wave crashes through his whirlwind and sweeps him away. Alfredo has only a brief moment to catch his breath on his knees as the water curls back around to strike again. In defence, Alfredo throws his hands up and a wind scatters the water, leaving it to only spray over him. But the water is relentless; it flows back around and crashes against Alfredo’s gale over and over. “TREVOR!”

Trevor’s eyes are glazed over, yet deadly focused as he crushes Alfredo and his winds beneath the water. Looking at his face, it would be impossible to imagine the war that rages in Trevor’s mind. Trevor fights desperately against a presence that holds him like iron. In his panic and horror, Trevor is left to wail Alfredo’s name in his head as if somehow Alfredo could hear and know that _this isn’t him_.

A wind breaks the wave for just a moment, but it’s long enough for Alfredo to make his escape. He doesn’t look at Trevor; he doesn’t need to, he understands what is happening, and his eyes are on Barbara’s father in an instant with a wind gathering already.

Trevor shudders as he regains control of his own body and the water. He takes one deep inhale and manages half a sigh of relief before the wind slams into him. It throws him sideways, but with a swift flick of his wrist, Trevor is able to sweep the water behind him and push him away from the wall and puts him back on the ground unharmed.

He lets the water envelop him for a moment to provide just a few seconds of respite from the wind, then throws the water up with one hand, producing a wall that defends him. “FREDO!” he calls. It’s as useless as Alfredo’s earlier plea; the Whisper holds Alfredo’s mind hostage as tightly as he held Trevor’s, and no words will break Alfredo free, not even the desperate cry of a friend.

So with his free hand, Trevor pulls away half of his water and fires a jet of it towards the Whisper. The presence strikes straight back into his mind and his aquatic missile crashes to the ground harmlessly.

And so it goes on and on for what feels like an eternity, a deadly and constantly reversing game of cat and mouse between Trevor and Alfredo. As soon as one gains the upper hand or poses a threat to Barbara’s father, he swaps, and the other, newly freed, is put on the defensive until they can fight their way to a stronger position.

Presumably, the Whisper hoped to kill one with the other, but the two have trained together countless times; there is no trick that either can pull that the other is not prepared for, and the two are quite evenly matched in power – neither can brute force a victory over the other. This fight will go on until one or both of them drop from exhaustion.

Unless, the Whisper thinks, he commands them to use tricks that they are not prepared for. Tricks that they are not willing to use, that they would never use either in training against each other or a true fight.

He realises this just as Alfredo makes a leap for him with the wind launching at him. The Whisper swaps, dropping the Nymph for the Windweaver, and he turns Alfredo on a groaning, exhausted Trevor. ‘ _No…_ ’ Alfredo whimpers in his thoughts when he realises what the Whisper intends. ‘ _No, no, please, no! NO!_ ’

Alfredo reaches out to Trevor, who is just dragging himself to his feet and pulling the water in to form another wall against the wind he expects. Alfredo’s hand stretches out and his fingers curl inwards as if to beacon the air to him. Barbara was right – it takes frighteningly little effort for Alfredo.

Trevor’s breath catches, and his hands come to his throat as he realises with wide, horrified eyes what is happening. The water crashes back down around him as his breath flows calmly from his lips, and no matter how he gasps, he can’t pull it back. He is suffocating.

“NO!” Barbara screams, a horrid, dry, agonised scream that chokes into silence. If not for the Shadow’s arms around her, her legs would give way. But she is held back, and all she can do is watch through teary eyes as Alfredo kills Trevor.

‘ _No, no, stop, please, please, no! TREVOR!_ ’ Alfredo wails at the invader in his mind. He struggles desperately against the Whisper’s influence, but he can’t break through and the wind won’t obey – it has a new master.

The desperate noises that escape Trevor are quiet, almost silent. He collapses back to the ground with his fingers clawing at his throat. The water comes to him and laps at him, but his usual careful control is absent. The water is merely reacting to his fearful emotions; Trevor can’t form a cohesive command as his mind falls into a primal panic. He feels himself grow weak, and his vision begins to black out in spots. It is an awful way to die.

From behind, Geoff dives at and snatches the Whisper’s wrist. He had left with the refugees, and fled to collect the other Newbloods, and ran to the opposite entrance behind the Whisper as quickly as he could, though was significantly slowed by his leg. There is no time for the Whisper to swap control or redirect Alfredo’s power, for he falls unconscious instantly. Matt, trailing right behind Geoff, redirects the light to its normal course to reveal the Silver Shadow and Barbara, and Gavin cuts Barbara free of the Shadow before binding him in ice.

The moment the Whisper falls, so too does Alfredo, though he quickly scrambles to Trevor’s side as he gasps desperately for oxygen. “Trev,” he cries as he pulls Trevor into a sitting position against him. He weaves the air to Trevor’s mouth to help him breathe. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to stop it. I’m sorry Trevor.”

Barbara falls to their side and cups Trevor’s pale face. “Trevor, can you hear me?” she begs through tears. “Are you alright?”

“Out of the way, you two,” Geoff orders as he kneels before Trevor. He places a hand to Trevor’s cheek, and after a short while, colour floods back into his skin and his gasps grow more controlled. “You good, Trevor?”

Trevor groans and falls back into Alfredo’s chest, then nods as he relishes in his breathing. “I’m good,” he sighs, “I’m good.” 

Barbara sobs in joy and throws her arms around him. “I thought you were done for,” she whimpers.

With a soft chuckle, Trevor hugs back. “Not yet,” he says. When Barbara pulls away, he takes a deep breath and looks up. “Fredo?”

“Yeah?”

“We’ll call it a tie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to wait at least a full week before updating but I couldn't wait any longer. This was my favourite fight yet.
> 
> And just in case any of you have forgotten that one sentence at the beginning of the chapter, can we all please take a moment to appreciate that Trevor was dragged out of bed and went this WHOLE FIGHT in his underwear. Believe me when I say I tried to bring it up again at some point later in the chapter, but there was absolutely no way I could do that without destroying the tone entirely. So yeah, do with that image what you will.


	26. Chapter 26

Barbara helps Trevor back up to his room to dress while the others remain behind to deal with the invading Silvers. Jack fashion thick vines into cuffs for the Whisper. The Shadow is put into unconsciousness and healed up by Geoff, and in turn bound again, though this time by a series of vines. Geoff finds the Silver Windweaver on the cusp of life, having just survived Alfredo’s attack, though without intervention from a healer he would almost certainly have succumbed to his wounds.

Just outside the arena, Alfredo and Michael find Tim and the Silence. Both are stained with red and silver blood, but it seems that Tim was the victor of their fight, with the Silver crumpled at his feet and barely conscious. He doesn’t even attempt to silence either of the Newbloods that find him.

Tim smiles a broken smile, with a chipped tooth and a split lip. He spits red blood and asks, “Was this guy bothering you, Fredo?”

“Not anymore,” comes a muttered response. He wants to warm to Tim’s joke, but after watching Trevor suffer and almost die by his own hand, he can’t bring himself to.

Michael drags the Silver to his feet. “Resist and I’ll burn you to a crisp,” he warns, letting heat radiate from his skin in a warning. “Or, alternatively, he’ll…”

“I won’t do anything, Michael,” Alfredo says. “He’s beaten.”

Michael nods an apology, then leads the Silver back to Geoff. Tim comes to stand by Alfredo’s side and asks, “Is everything alright? What happened in there?”

Alfredo looks to him, winces and looks away. “You should see Geoff.”

“That bad, huh?” Tim chuckles.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?” he says. His smile fades quickly. “Alfredo, what happened? Is everyone alright?! Where’s Trevor?”

“He’s… fine. The same way you’ll be fine in a minute. Not a scratch on him,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets before he follows Michael back out into the arena. Tim rolls his eyes and follows on.

By the time they rejoin with the group, all of the Silvers are healed up, unconscious and securely bound. Geoff sets to work on Tim while he continues with what he had been saying before. “We’ll have Barbara interrogate them in the morning.”

Michael scoffs. “How do we know she won’t lie? She is one of them. And you say this guy is her dad?”

“We can trust her,” Geoff says firmly. “She’s proved herself, believe me. She tried to stop whatever they were doing to Trevor.”

“And she freed me,” Alfredo adds. At Geoff’s inquisitive look, he adds, “My powers. The Silvers suppressed them, and she freed me.”

“Hold up,” Jeremy says quickly. “Did you say suppressed?”

Alfredo nods. “Another ability we didn’t know about. I don’t think even Trevor knew about it. But Barbara said they were rare, and I think they can only silence one of us at a time, otherwise he would have silenced Geoff or Barbara as well as me.”

Geoff’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks. “That changes things.”

“It’s like they’ve evolved to counter any possible threat,” Jack says, “Long before we ever stood a chance.”

“We can account for them,” Geoff says with as much confidence as he can find, even though he fully agrees with Jack, and feels just as hopeless, “Just another obstacle to overcome.”

“And let’s not forget that they knew where we were hiding,” Matt says sullenly.

Alfredo shakes his head. “I don’t think they were looking for us. They knew Barbara had come here, but I think that was all. They came prepared to tackle Reds or Silvers, but not us.”

“Another thing we can have Barbara ask later,” Geoff sighs. “Let’s get them down to the cells before they wake up.”

Trevor and Barbara meet with the others on the way down. Trevor has changed into his usual black jeans and white shirt and he has cleaned the blood from himself. But he has also slung a thin scarf around his neck, a deep, rippling blue in colour, like the ocean he has never seen. It is a prominent addition, a warning as well as a symbol of his pride. Against his otherwise colourless clothes, his pale skin, and his dark hair and eyes, the blue of the scarf and the bloom of red under his skin stand out. The baron called him unnatural, and the Silver Whisper called his blood filth. Now he wears what he is as plain as day for them; he is the Red Nymph, and the waters of the kingdom will rise up for him before any Silver.

Barbara clutches his hand when she sees her father being taken to captivity, slung over the shoulder of Jeremy, but she says nothing against it. Though she doesn’t show it, she is simply happy that he is still alive. Had he crossed Silvers, he wouldn’t be, and she wouldn’t have blamed Trevor or Alfredo for killing him. Perhaps he even deserved it.

Alfredo meets Trevor’s eyes and winces, halting and causing Jack to walk into his back. The Greenwarden understands what has happened quickly, and squeezes Alfredo’s shoulder reassuringly as he passes.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Barbara says. She squeezes Trevor’s hand and follows on behind Jack. In Alfredo’s mind, he hears an echoed: ‘ _For the record, it wasn’t your fault, and you know it._ ’

“It was still me,” he murmurs after her. He isn’t sure if she heard it, either physically or in his thoughts. Trevor didn’t and tilts his head at him. Alfredo avoids his gaze and follows the others.

Trevor follows alongside. “It feels awful, doesn’t it?” he says. “He made me do it too, remember? The girl. I almost drowned her. You know her, right?”

“She worked in the fields with me,” Alfredo says.

“I’d like to meet her. If she’ll even let me near, that is. It wasn’t me, and she probably knew that, but it was me behind it all. I’m the one whose powers did that to her, and I’m the one that has to live with the memory of almost watching her drown by my hand, not the Whisper. It’s strange, trying to forgive yourself for something so awful, but also something you didn’t do.”

“Yeah,” Alfredo murmurs. He averts his eyes and slumps his shoulders.

Trevor nudges him. “I knew it wasn’t you. Even when I thought I was done for I didn’t blame you.”

Alfredo nods slightly, sighs and gives a small smile. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“I know. I think I needed it too.”

Before them, Jack opens a door and halts. The others directly behind him freeze too, and a gasp escapes Gavin while Matt gags and Jeremy shudders and almost drops the Whisper.

“What is it?” Trevor asks. When nobody answers him, he repeats his demand louder, and he and Alfredo hurry to the front of the small crowd.

Through the doorway, on the other side of the corridor, there is a metallic pool of silver. It stems from the closest cell, from the motionless form of the baron.

Alfredo sinks back behind Jack. Trevor instead turns on Geoff and, with great urgency, he says, “Check him! Geoff, go!”

“Tre…”

“Do it!”

Geoff sighs, but it can’t hurt. He and Trevor hurry to the baron’s cell, careful not to step in the river of blood. Reluctantly, a few of the Newbloods and Barbara follow them. The baron is laying on his side facing away from the bars. Gavin quickly runs and retrieves the keys and throws them to Geoff, who unlocks the cell and steps inside alone. Now with a clearer view, recoils in revulsion at the baron’s wound. “He’s dead, Trevor.”

“Are you sure?”

Geoff crinkles his nose and shakes his head with disgust, then pushes the baron’s shoulder with his shoe. The body crashes onto its back and Trevor flinches back in horror. Jack almost vomits. The rest stare on in stunned silence.

“He must have thought this was more honourable than imprisonment,” Geoff murmurs. He examines the wound. A thin shard of metal that the baron must have broken off from the old bed is buried far into his throat. “But it must have been slow,” the healer adds.

“And recent,” Barbara comments, “The blood is still fresh.”

“So what do we do with him?” Gavin asks. He hardly looks at the corpse.

“More importantly,” Matt calls down to them from the doorway, “What about these guys?” He gestures to the unconscious Silver bodies.

Geoff waves a dismissive hand. “Throw those guys in cells. Jack, make damn sure there are no stray shards of metal they could use to follow this one.”

As Jack helps Matt and Jeremy lock up the others, Michael scowls at the corpse and folds his arms over his chest. “Throw this one in a ditch, I say. He’s murdered countless Reds; he doesn’t deserve the dignity of a grave.”

“No.” Trevor steps forward. “We should give him to his family. We’re not monsters; we should show them the decency of allowing them to bury their dead at least.”

“I am not putting my life on the line to return a dead Silver to his heartless brood!” Michael hisses.

“Fine, then don’t. I’ll do it.”

“Don’t be stupid, Trevor,” Geoff sighs.

“I’m being serious! If we can’t do that for them, why should they do it for us? We don’t even need to put ourselves at too much risk; we can build a coffin, leave it somewhere secure and send a message to his family letting them know where his body is. Jack, you could make a coffin, right?”

Jack tilts his head. “I could, but… I don’t know, it is risky. Why not just bury him with dignity here?”

“To show them that we’re reasonable, and we respect their right to at least mourn their dead. They’re more likely to negotiate with reasonable enemies, won’t they? Fredo, you agree, right?”

Alfredo had been glaring into the glassy eyes of the corpse since the moment they arrived. He had a similarly resentful stance to Michael’s, with his arms crossed over his chest a clenched jaw. But when Trevor says his name, the stiffness melts out of his posture. His head droops, his eyes close and he sighs. “Do what you want with him,” he says quietly, “I’m done with him.”

Trevor nods in understanding, but he doesn't back down. “I’ll leave him on the border of his territories; I think I can deal with any patrolling forces. I'd be gone for three hours at most.”

Geoff folds his arms, then looks to the corpse again. “Gavin, you should go too, just to be safe.” Gavin nods to him, and Geoff sighs, “We can’t leave him here. Somebody help me move him.”

They leave the body to lay in a cold room close to the cells. On the way out, Geoff catches Trevor’s shoulder. “You’re sure about this?” Geoff asks with a low voice to avoid catching the attention of others.

At first, Trevor thinks he means returning the body, but Geoff’s eyes glance the other way, at Barbara, who had halted when she noticed Trevor stop. Trevor finds her hand, clasps it tightly within his own, then raises his head and nods firmly at Geoff. “I’m sure.”

Geoff doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he nods and backs away. “Alright. I trust you both. You should both get some rest. Barbara, we’ll be needing you bright and early tomorrow morning.”


	27. Chapter 27

The next morning, Trevor and Gavin leave shortly before dawn with the baron’s body and a written message with an honest explanation for the baron’s death and instructions on how to recover his body.

Barbara and Geoff see them off. Trevor is all confidence when he hugs Barbara goodbye, and maybe he has good reason to be. Trevor has proven himself a capable fighter multiple times on the field, and for all Gavin’s silliness in training, he is competent and powerful when it counts. Still, this is a Silver world waking up to the very real threat these Newbloods clearly pose, and Barbara doesn’t like the separation, however brief.

“Take care of yourself, Nymph,” Barbara says when Trevor pulls away from her.

“Go easy on them,” Trevor says.

Barbara smiles softly, but there’s no warmth in her eyes when she says: “They tried to kill you.”

“Ah, but they didn’t,” he chuckles.

“They almost did. Besides, I don’t think I’m the one you should be worried about. I’m more concerned about Michael and Alfredo.”

“Nah,” Trevor laughs, “Fredo knows how to control himself. And Michael… Well, maybe keep a bucket of water to hand.”

There is a thud behind them. Gavin slaps the side of the truck and calls, “Trey!”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Trevor says quickly to Barbara.

“Don’t be late.”

Trevor nods his goodbye to Geoff, then he hops in the passenger side of the truck beside Gavin. Barbara joins Geoff as the truck pulls away. He sighs and says to her, “I hope this is worth the risk.”

“It’s not,” Barbara says.

Geoff shakes his head, then re-enters the base. Barbara follows and walks beside him as if she were an equal, not a prisoner nor a master. He leads her towards the stairs down to the cells, and on the staircase, he asks: “So which one do you want to start with? Your father?”

She shakes her head. “There’s no point interrogating him. He can resist me, and he knows how to hide things within his mind, and there’s no way you’ll get him to talk through any humane tactics. The Silence is pointless too unless you force him to silence somebody else. You’d have to have Michael try to burn him.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to,” Geoff says.

“It’s not worth it. The Windweaver won’t be a threat as long as Alfredo is close, and the Shadow can hide himself all he wants, it won’t hide his mind from me. We should start with either of those two. I think that Shadow will know more than the Weaver.”

“Shadow it is,” Geoff says. They come to the corridor before the cells, where Michael, Alfredo and Jeremy are waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

They are in silence, with Jeremy sat on the bottom step rubbing his gloved hands together nervously. Michael paces, flickering a small flame into existence before letting it burn into nothingness in his palm. He scowls at the door whenever he faces it. Alfredo is leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His face is expressionless, but he’s lost in thoughts that jump out at Barbara. The Weaver still feels immense guilt for what happened to Trevor last night, and frustration that, even in death, the baron still got what he wanted, and worry for what is about to happen.

Jeremy jumps up and Michael’s flame flickers away again when Geoff and Barbara arrive. Barbara doesn’t miss the scowl that Michael throws in her direction. ‘ _Great, the Silver,_ ’ she hears, ‘ _What could possibly go wrong here?_ ’

Geoff nods to each, then gestures towards the cells. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

Jeremy and Michael throw the struggling Silver Shadow into an empty room out of reach of Barbara’s father. Geoff, Barbara and Alfredo follow after, and Geoff locks the door behind them.

The Shadow roars, and Barbara calls out: “Cover your eyes! NOW!” Just in time, the Reds and Barbara shield their eyes from a blinding flash of light that seems never-ending. In the process, Jeremy and Michael are forced to release the Silver, who makes a break for it.

He doesn’t make it far. The moment his eyes closed behind the cover of his forearm, Alfredo’s mind tuned to the air and its movements. The Shadow makes two whole steps before the air shifts around him and gathers into a force that knocks him back against a wall with a grunt.

Barbara gets into the Shadow’s mind and commands him to cease. The blinding light melts away, and his interrogators blink as their eyes readjust.

“Try that again, Silver, and I’ll…”

“ _Michael!_ ” Geoff hisses.

The Silver is still pinned back by Alfredo’s winds. Barbara stands to the side of the Silver, a short distance away where the gust does little more than shift her hair. The Shadow snarls at her. “Stay out!” he snarls.

“His name is Umbre. Nicholas Umbre,” Barbara begins, “He’s a common Silver, employed by my father shortly after I fled home. As far as I can tell, neither he nor my father knew of your existence, though Umbre had heard rumours. They didn’t tell anybody where they were going – my father believed I was kidnapped, and they assumed the kidnappers must have had help from within his household. How else would they steal a nobleman’s daughter from their very home? They didn’t want anybody to tip off my kidnappers.”

“So we’re still safe,” Geoff murmurs, “For now.”

“Their absence will be noticed. It’s possible that they may consider this to be another kidnapping. No doubt the king will start to pay attention to our disappearances now,” Barbara says. “You’ll have to move on quickly. I give it a few days before others come for you.”

“Ask him how many Reds he’s murdered,” Michael snarls.

The Shadow spits. “How many Silvers have you murdered, freak?”

It is not Michael that winces, but Jeremy. The Silver notices and turns his head to grin mockingly at Jeremy, only for his view to be blocked by Alfredo, the only Red to note his discomfort. Jeremy thanks Alfredo quietly as he takes deep, slow breaths.

Michael makes no attempt to restrain himself. His fists burst into a bright flame as he roars, “It’s about to be one!”

“Michael!” Geoff snaps, “You told me you could keep yourself in check. We are not murderers!”

Jeremy winces again and covers his mouth to hide a sob.

A shouting match erupts between Michael and Geoff, one that grows so intense that Alfredo is forced to step in and mediate, and even eventually hold the two apart. Jeremy, quivering, bolts out of the room. The only two to notice are Alfredo, who is preoccupied holding back the fight, and Barbara, who knows that she is the last one Jeremy wants to see right now. Hopefully, she thinks, somebody else will find the poor guy.

‘ _This is what you chose over your own family?_ ’ the Shadow sneers in his thoughts. Barbara scowls but doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. But the Shadow doesn’t stop there. He knows she can’t afford to slip out of his head, not as long as the Reds are fighting and the door has been left unlocked.

So the Shadow’s mind wanders to the previous night when the Windweaver before him almost suffocated the life out of that Nymph. Barbara’s body shudders and stiffens – he’s called it right, she’s still in his mind and this is a painful memory for her to watch.

‘ _You’re a goddess who has fallen for a rat. This is what we do to them, sweetie. This is what is natural. You should get used to it. It’s going to happen to him sooner or later._ ’

‘ _Alfredo,_ ’ Barbara projects into his mind, ‘ _Stop your winds._ ’ Alfredo is confused by the order, but the wind eases up.

Michael and Geoff’s fight ends abruptly by the sound of a thud, a snap and an enraged cry of pain. The Shadow goes stumbling away from Barbara with his hands over his nose. When he pulls a hand away to check it, his palm is splattered with metallic blood. Barbara’s knuckles are equally bloody, though the blood isn’t hers.

“BITCH!” the Silver roars. “You broke my nose!”

She wipes the blood off her hand and shakes it off. Outside, she is stoic, but inside she rides an adrenaline high. It felt good to finally shut one of those cocky Silvers up.

The Red boys are staring in silent shock at her, and Michael even has a shadow of an approving smile on his face. “What?” she narrows her eyes at them, “He was asking for it. Can we get back to it? The sooner I never have to be inside this guy’s head again, the better.”

Gavin and Trevor return approximately two hours after they had originally departed. They were lucky; they were never spotted while travelling and there was no trouble. The message for the baron’s family was taken to the closest Red village and handed to the town hall to be taken to the Silvers as quickly as possible. It gave plenty of time for the Newbloods to escape.

By the time they returned, the interrogation of the Silver prisoners was over, though only just. They had interrogated both the Shadow and the Windweaver, though the latter knew little more than the former. The interrogation convinced Geoff that they were safe for at least a few days, but moving on should be their top priority, and after the interrogations were over he and Jack began to pour over a map to discuss potential options.

Barbara’s mood soured further over the course of the interrogations. The minds of Silvers hell-bent on destroying the Newbloods and condemning her as a blood traitor was hardly a pleasant place to spend so long and turned out to be far more emotionally taxing than anticipated, even while avoiding her father.

She greets Trevor when he arrives and gives him a short summary of the morning’s events. “They didn’t know as much as we hoped. While all the rest of the Silvers were looking for you guys, they were looking the other way, for me.”

“A shame,” Trevor sighs. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” Barbara says. “I think I should go to my room. I hardly slept.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She smirks, bites her lip, then shakes her head as her smile fades. “As much as I would like that, I think you should find Jeremy. He’s… you know. I’d look for him myself, but I’m the last person he needs to see right now. Alfredo couldn’t find him.”

“Fredo couldn’t find him? I know where he is.”

Barbara tilts her head. “Why the roof?”

“Fredo doesn’t go up there, but it’s a nice place to sit in peace, and there’s a pretty good view. It’s nice. You should go see at some point.”

“Why bother with all those stairs when I could see it in your head?” She chuckles, then her smile fades. “Oh yeah,” she mutters to herself, tilting her head in confusion while she stares at Trevor’s eyes. “I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Trevor asks.

“Your memories… They look strange…”

“My memories look strange? What does that even mean?”

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not important. Jeremy is, you should go find him. I’ll see you tonight.”

Sure enough, Trevor finds Jeremy sat on the roof of the base. There’s a smooth landing pad intended for Silver aircrafts that hasn’t seen use in years, and little else. Jeremy is sat cross-legged close to the edge, looking out over the nearby treetops to the far-off hills, valleys, villages and rivers. He looks back when he hears the door open and offers Trevor a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

“How was it?” Jeremy asks.

“Fine. Something went as planned for once. Mind if I sit with you?” Trevor asks. Jeremy shakes his head and Trevor slumps down beside him. “So… You alright?”

Jeremy sighs and diverts his eyes. “Yeah, I’m just… You know.”

“Yeah,” Trevor says, “I get it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hey, that’s fine.” Trevor lets Jeremy have his peace and opts to admire the view instead until he hears the strange sound of Jeremy’s gloves rubbing together. He doesn’t question it though – it must be some sort of nervous tell or some way of helping him cope. Either way, better to leave it unmentioned.

“Fredo was looking for you,” Trevor says after a while.

“Well, I’m not hiding from him. Why, what did he want me for?”

Trevor shrugs. “Just to talk, probably.”

Jeremy doesn’t believe that. He stretches his legs out before him and changes the subject. “So, you and the Silver?”

Trevor stares at the treeline and says, “Yep.”

“Has Michael said anything?”

“Yup.”

Jeremy leans back on his elbows, expecting a great tale. Trevor chuckles and pulls on his scarf. “He said either she’s controlling my mind or I didn’t have one to begin with.”

“Oof,” Jeremy murmurs. “And? Do you think she’s doing her mind thing?”

Trevor shrugs. “I don’t think I’d care even if she was.”

“Ah,” Jeremy nods, watching as a flock of birds fly overhead. “That sounds like love to me.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Have you ever been in love?”

Jeremy smiles a soft smile and lays down as he stares absentmindedly away. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You still are?” Trevor asks. “You want to tell me about them?”

“Just a girl,” Jeremy says, “The sweetest girl I ever met. She was lucky – she had an amazing job. She made pottery. _Really_ good pottery. She was popular with local Silvers, so I know no harm could possibly come to her as long as she can keep it up. Actually, I discovered my powers on her pottery.”

Trevor laughs. “I can think of worse things to blow up than a nice vase.”

“I was in her shop, and some pretentious Silver made a comment about her. I won’t repeat it, but it was enough to piss me off enough that I activated my power, so you get the idea. Anyway, so long vase.”

“You did it in front of a Silver?”

“Nah,” Jeremy says, “He wasn’t looking, and even if he was, I doubt he would have believed I had a power. I guess he just thought I had a hell of a grip or something. Good thing though – if I wasn’t so shocked by my ability, I might have attacked the guy.

“Anyway, after that, Kat let me practise on anything she fucked up beyond repair. But then I realised what a threat I was to Silvers, and what a threat I had become to Kat and my home, so I left. But I still think about her every day, you know? Wonder if she’s okay, if she’s happy, if she thinks of me. If she could go into my head and plant these feeling for her, I don’t think I’d care either.”

Trevor smirks. “We should be alarmed by that, shouldn’t we?”

“Ah, probably,” Jeremy chuckles. “So what’s it like? Having her inside your head all the time?”

“Honestly, I’m more disturbed by the fact that her dad caught us in bed together and then tried to kill me.”

“Yeah? I’ve heard that’s a common reaction.”

“Do you think if I went down and told him we got off on the wrong foot we could make amends?” Trevor asks jokingly.

Jeremy grins and shrugs. “You do seem to be the Silver whisperer.” He sits up again and sighs. “I haven’t taken the time to just sit outside in the sun in a while. Hey, thanks for sitting with me.”

“No… problem…” Trevor murmurs, though his attention is blatantly elsewhere. He skirts closer to the edge of the roof and stares into the trees with narrowed, focused eyes.

Jeremy pays no mind until he feels a change in the air, a sudden dryness as the water vapour around them condenses like mist into water that Trevor holds close around himself. “What? What is it? Trey?”

Trevor doesn’t break his focus as he says, “Thought I saw something. Now I think I can feel people.”

“Feel?” Jeremy asks. He backs away as the volume of water around Trevor grows to an amount where he could certainly do some damage. He’s expecting a fight, or at least preparing for one.

“The water inside them,” Trevor murmurs.

“Ah, yeah. Creepy,” Jeremy mutters. “You’re sure it wasn’t just our own? The refugees, or our own guys training?”

Trevor shakes his head. “Why would they hide? Jeremy, go get Geoff and anybody else you can find.”

“And you?” Jeremy asks, “What will you do?”

“Nothing unless I think I need to.”

Jeremy crawls to his feet and backs towards the doorway. “Don’t do anything stupid without me!” he calls, then disappears inside.


	28. Chapter 28

Trevor leans close to the edge of the roof. Whoever is out there, they aren’t moving. Either they are preparing for an assault, or they’re watching too. He counts each body he senses through his ability – eight within range, possibly more behind.

Then, one body moves. A tall man wearing mismatched military and survival gear that must have been salvaged from multiple places comes out into the open. On his back is an assault rifle, and Trevor swears he can see a pistol and grenades on his belt too, though at the distance it is hard to be sure.

The man is hardly dressed as a great Silver soldier, but he could still be a threat. He could be a Silver in disguise, or a Red general paid handsomely by the Silvers to infiltrate the base and destroy any resistance he finds.

Trevor gathers the water and throws it over the edge of the building so that it pours before the entrance like a great defensive waterfall, and then he throws himself over after it. As he falls, the water lurches up and catches him safely.

With his feet securely on the concrete, he holds the water close once again so that it laps against his legs in an open threat. “No closer!”

The man stops in his tracks and even raises his hands in a gesture of surrender and peace. A good sign, and one that Trevor, now so used to fighting his way out of confrontations, isn’t entirely prepared for. In surprise, his control slips and much of the water crashes away from him to wash over the ground.

Then, directly to his left, he hears somebody sprinting. He’d fixed his attention on the man before him he’d neglected to keep check on all the others, and one has apparently snuck around. Trevor throws what little water he had held under his command left while his other hand calls back to the water he had lost to pull it back.

His attack hits nothing – the woman sprinting at him jumped up against the building and then sprung backwards off the wall and over the water, twisting her body in the air to land gracefully on her feet and keep running, and she is fast. “Stop!” she calls to him.

Trevor tries again, throwing another wave at her, but she slips beneath it to avoid being swept away, swings a foot around Trevor’s and kicks his knee out. Before he can hit his head against the concrete, she rolls to her feet, grabs his scarf and collar to hold his head up, and then locks his arms behind his back. Trevor winces at a sting in his finger, a cut that must have spilt blood.

“Red!” the woman declares.

The woman moves too quick, Trevor realises, her reflexes are too fast, they’re inhuman. This is an ability. _Silver_. And now she’s confirmed to her party that Trevor is an unnatural Red. He can’t let her get away, or reach the other Reds, or capture him.

Another wave, twice the size of the last, slams into the both of them. The woman clings to the Nymph tightly as the water carries them – if she lets go, he could sweep her away and drown her. Once the wave has passed, while the Nymph is certainly attempting to circle the water back around to hit again, she throws her body over him, pins him and stabs her small spiked ring into her finger, grunting as she does. “STOP!” she orders the Nymph, thrusting her bleeding finger out at his face. “Look! I’m Red too!”

He stares at her finger. Trevor doesn’t cast the water away, but he doesn’t bring it down on her either. “Red?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” the young woman confirms. Trevor’s eyes shift from the blood to her face, and he gets a good look at her for the first time. A slim but somewhat muscular girl with dark braided hair that falls over her shoulder. She too is wearing old, mismatched military attire with a slightly oversized grey coat around her shoulders. She is still on edge, and still pinning Trevor against the ground, but she gives him a nervous, hopeful smile.

“Silk?” Trevor asks.

She nods again, then glances at the water Trevor is holding back. “Nymph?”

Her response comes when Trevor pulls the water that had drenched her away, then his eyes set on the man he had seen before, who was approaching quickly, and with six armed men behind him. “Let me up,” he says. The Red Silk hops to her feet and helps him up. “These guys with you?”

The man he had seen first, a giant of a man with a round face, short golden brown hair and square glasses, answers for her. “At ease, Nymph. We’re friends.”

“Considering one of you just assaulted me, I’ll hold off on declaring friendship,” Trevor says. He folds his arms and narrows his eyes, but he lets go of his control of the water, letting it wash back into the concrete.

The man nods with a faint smile. “You were putting on a hell of a display; we had to be sure you bled the right colour. You got a name, kid?”

“Trevor Collins, sir.”

The man extends a hand that Trevor reluctantly takes. His shake is firm and tight. “General Gregory Miller. You’ve already met Fiona here.”

“Are there more of you?” Trevor asks.

“Unless we need more of us, no. You’re not alone either, I take it, Collins?”

“No, General.”

“Good.” The general takes his hand back and begins to make his own way towards the entrance. “I need to speak to whoever’s in charge here.”

“Wait!” Trevor bolts into his path and halts him with a hand. “No. Wait outside. We have civilian refugees – all of this,” he gestures to the weaponry and militaristic attire of the general and his men, “Might send off the wrong signals.”

“Refugees?” the general asks.

Before Trevor can answer, the entrance to the base slams open. It is Michael that leads the charge out, fists ablaze again. Gavin is right on his heels, mostly for damage-control than any offence. The other Newbloods pour out after them, and a few of the braver Red refugees peek out at the small force of strangers.

“Oh, good grief,” the general mutters under his breath.

Michael scowls at the strangers, but with one look from Trevor, his flames die. The other Newbloods, though they had clearly appeared expecting a fight, are hesitant. From the doorway, Tim asks, “Who’s this asshole?”

The general takes the insult in his stride as he paces towards the Newbloods. “General Miller. Who’s in charge here?”

Nobody answers, but most eyes and heads turn to Geoff, who eventually says, “It’s more of a democracy.”

“A revolution without a leader? A great start,” Miller says sarcastically. Nevertheless, he offers out his hand to Geoff. “You have a name, sir?”

“Geoff. Ramsey. And what, exactly, are you?”

“Representatives of a legitimate Red resistance, here to extend an invite to join our ranks. We heard about what happened in Locke’s territories, figured it was a new band of mutant Reds. We came as soon as we could find you. You’re lucky we got here before any Silvers.”

Geoff snickers. “The Silvers found us first, actually. We have four of them locked up downstairs.”

The general smiles at that, “Not entirely incompetent then,” he says, then his gaze shifts. “You missed one.”

Barbara, who had already been hiding herself at the back of the Newbloods, sinks further back with wide eyes, and Trevor quickly moves to stand in front of her and takes her hand. Jeremy shifts his weight to help block her from the General, and Lindsay and Alfredo reposition themselves around her. “She’s with us,” Trevor says, holding his chin high as he stares down the general.

“Silvers don’t swap sides.”

“This one did.”

Miller paces towards him, and as he does, he draws a pistol. He halts only when he is face to face with the Nymph. Trevor is tall, but somehow the general seems to tower over even him. He glares down his nose at the Nymph as he says, “I don’t have time for lovestruck little boys. That Silver is a threat to us, and you will either hand her over or I will end her now and strive to make your life difficult.”

Trevor rises to the challenge in a heartbeat as water droplets condense around him in a mist. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll drown you.”

“Trevor,” Geoff says as he lays a hand on the Nymph’s arm. “It’s fine, I’ll handle it. Take Barbara, go on.”

Trevor grits his teeth, nods to Geoff, then leads Barbara back into the safety of the base, making certain to cover her body with his own.

Geoff catches Miller’s arm. “I don’t take kindly to you threatening our guests, _General_.”

“Guest? The way I see it, you’re harbouring the enemy.”

“If that girl wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now. Pay her the same courtesy.”

“You need us,” Jack adds. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. You want our help? This is a condition.”

Miller shakes his head in disbelief. “There is a lot of work to be done here. But… I was charged with bringing you over to our cause. If you want to keep your pet Silver, you can take that up with command when you meet them. How many of you are there? Mutant and non-mutant Reds?”

“Nine Newbloods. About four hundred refugees.”

“We’ll evacuate the non-mutants by evening. In the meantime, I want to see what I’m working with. Can I ask for a demonstration? A five on five, with Fiona here?”

Geoff narrows his eyes. “What do you think we are?”

“Oh, come on Geoff,” Michael interrupts, “This is the first time he’s been talking sense.”

Gavin pipes up too, “Yeah, we haven’t had a huge training fight like that since before Trevor showed up!”

“Back then it was three-on-three, and I could hardly heal you assholes fast enough then.”

“You’re a healer?” Miller asks. “Useful. Alright,” he paces the Newbloods, then points to Michael, Jack, Matt and Lindsay. “You four, one team. The rest of you and water-boy, you’re the other. Geoff, you’re side lines with me.”

“Actually, General,” Jack says timidly, “I don’t really like fighting.”

“Yeah, and I’m kinda going through something right now, so I’ll sit out too,” Jeremy adds.

General Miller marches up to the two of them, forcing eye contact even when they glance away. “Do you think the Silvers will care if you don’t want to fight?” the general snarls. “Or if you’re going through something? No. So I want both of you to go out there and show me what you can do.”

“Jack and Jeremy are in no position to fight yet,” Geoff growls. “If they don’t feel prepared, you can’t force them. Training injuries can be excruciatingly painful and dangerous – Gavin near enough lost his leg at one point.”

“So you think that seven untrained, inexperienced Reds will be enough to take on the Silvers then, huh? Are you so deluded, Ramsey?”

“These seven Reds are the best chance you’ve ever had and you know it. What difference does waiting on two make?”

“It could be all the difference in the world,” Miller growls.

“Alright, enough,” Jeremy snaps. “Fine. I’ll do it. Jack?”

Jack glances nervously between Geoff, who looks furious, and the general. Eventually, he nods. “Fine. I’m in.”

“Good,” Miller snaps. “Call that Nymph back. I want this fight on in five minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is an overdue fight, and I'm sorry it took so long to get here. I know I hardly even grazed Fiona's ability here, hopefully I can showcase it next chapter, and Jack's too.


	29. Chapter 29

Word had spread quickly, and now the building was lined by Reds itching to see their champions in action safely. Even the roof is full. At the forefront of the gathered crowd, General Miller stands stoic beside Fiona, Geoff and Tim. The general watches through narrow eyes as each team discusses in small huddles their strategies.

“Your men are unruly and undisciplined,” the general comments.

“They’re not soldiers, general.”

“I am painfully aware of that, Ramsey.”

“They might be self-trained, but they haven’t lost a fight yet,” Tim says.

“I don’t think we’ve won one either,” Geoff murmurs.

“What can you do anyway, Fiona?” Tim asks.

“I'm a Silk.”

“Meaning?”

“You’ll see. Later.”

“Geoff,” Jack calls out to them from the field, “We’re ready!”

The general scoffs. “They don’t look so ready to me.”

The two teams stand idly opposing each other. Michael and Trevor lazily curl their elements around their wrists and bodies in anticipation. On closer inspection, Alfredo appears to be doing the same. But that appears to be the extent of any prior preparation. These Newbloods fully intend to throw themselves into a fight headfirst and hope for the best.

“They’re ready,” Geoff insists. He cups his hands to his mouth and shouts to them, “In three, okay? Three! Two! One!”

It is Jack who makes the first move. His team dart backwards and make a break for the treeline while plants erupt from small cracks in the concrete at Alfredo's feet, merging together into huge vines that wrap around his legs. He is all but helpless as Jack drags him down, locking Alfredo's wrists and neck too. Michael dares to glance back long enough to throw fire at the rest of the team before any of them can step in to help Alfredo.

“Come on!” Alfredo groans, struggling against his bonds, but none of them will budge. Alfredo isn’t getting out of this until Jack lets him out or Michael burns him free.

“Sorry, Fredo!” he hears Jack call, though he can hear the smile in his voice.

Alfredo groans and lays his head against the ground and calls: “I’m out!”

“You’re not out,” Jeremy says as he drops to his knees at Alfredo’s head. He pulls his gloves off with his teeth, shoves them into his pocket and rubs his hands together. He is quivering a little with nerves but he puts it to the back of his mind. “You three go on! Fredo, cover me.”

“Are you sure?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah, you don’t have to, if you’re not ready,” Alfredo says, “I’m fine. I’m not in pain, and it’s not life or death.”

Jeremy shrugs their concern away. “Nah, I’m good. I need to earn my keep. Trevor, go on!”

Trevor’s face is reluctant, but at an explosion of flame and a shout from Gavin, he knows he is needed elsewhere. He nods to Jeremy, gathers his waters and rejoins the fight.

“You don’t have to do this, Jeremy. I mean, you really, _really_ don’t,” Alfredo says.

Jeremy doesn’t catch the fear in his voice as he is too busy trying to ignore his own. “Nah, it’s fine.”

“Wait. Wait, no. I’m not…” Alfredo squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head away from Jeremy’s hand.

“All I have to do is get my fingertips right between your shoulder and these things and then…”

“JEREMY!”

A small explosion blows the vine around his throat in half. The rest is rendered weak enough to be pulled away from Alfredo. “There, see? Fine. It’s fine. You’re fine,” Jeremy says.

Alfredo chuckles nervously, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Okay. Okay. Yeah, we’re fine. Could you get the rest of these?”

Without the interference of Alfredo’s winds or Trevor’s water, Michael is able to exert the full extent of his abilities. As planned, Jack held their opponents back initially to give the rest of them a head start, but half-way to the trees it is Michael’s turn to shine as he covers Jack’s retreat.

A spark at his fingertips erupts into a great inferno that flares out between his team and the others, high and thick enough that it blocks their vision as well as their movement.

“Trevor!” Gavin shouts over the crackles of the flame. As expected, a wave of water crashes down against Michael’s wall of flame. But it isn't Trevor that Michael should have been worried about. Shockingly, it was Gavin. Behind the cover of flames, he had changed position, and managed to freeze his way safely through the flames without Michael noticing. And now he his charging the Burner.

He throws his predictable jet of fire. Gavin dodges, but it does sear his shoulder. But he carries on and is able to tackle Michael to the ground.

Michael groans, but does manage a weak smile for Gavin. "Good job, boi. Ow..."

By now, Trevor has finally doused enough of the flames to step safely through. Michael is winded, but still chuckling with Gavin. At least that is one threat dealt with. That buys him time to take down the other two members of their opposition who had made a beeline for the trees. ‘ _Wait,_ ’ Trevor thinks, ‘ _Two? Oh, fuck, Matt!_ ’

Trevor reels back from an unseen blow to his jaw. He spits blood while Gavin bolts up from the ground and throws shards of ice around them, to no avail. Trevor taps Gavin’s arm. “You go ahead. I can take him.”

“You’re sure?”

“He can’t hide from me.”

“If he can’t hide from you, how’d he hit you?” Gavin asks with a grin on his face. That grin is promptly wiped off by Matt, who lands a hard hit on his nose. “Agh!” he howls, scrambling back with his nose in his hands. “Ah, y’ bastard!”

Both Trevor and Matt burst into laughter, and Matt lets his guard down and blinks back into view. “How’d he hit you?” Trevor mocks.

“You knew?!”

“Course I knew. I might have warned you if… WHOA!” He barely dodges the flames that Michael throws between them. Both Trevor and Gavin immediately regain their concentration and prepare to fight as Michael rises and Matt... well, Matt's gone again. "Get to Jack and Lindsay!" Trevor orders Gavin.

Ahead of them, just off the concrete, there is now a tangle of barks and vines and thorns that Jack has set up. Lindsay is further behind still, calling to whatever animal they can find. "You're going to take two of them on at once? You want me to take on two at once?!"

Trevor shrugs, then smirks. "Sure. Why not? Go, Gavin!"

Gavin charges the little fortress of botanic defences. His shards rain down and slice the weaker parts of Jack’s defences, but the projections of thick wood and bark from nearby trees won’t be so easily taken down. And the moment he sets foot off the concrete and onto the earth, a series of whip-like vines rise up. Gavin’s legs are quickly caught up. Branches of the trees reach down and wrap tight around his arms also.

“I don’t know what I expected,” he groans to himself.

Michael still aches all over, but Matt has Trevor locked down. Trevor keeps glancing his way, just to be safe, but when Matt gets a good hit in, maybe Michael can finally land a solid hit on that damn Nymph, the only one he's never beaten in a fight.

Sure enough, Matt gets his hit. Trevor doubles over for a moment, and Michael throws his flames.

And then the winds pick up, blowing the fire helplessly back at Michael. The wind rounds and turns on him, and there is no defence that he can throw up in time other than to brace.

Alfredo throws Michael almost as far back as Jack's defences. Matt lands with a thud and a groan alongside him. Alfredo and Jeremy join a bemused Trevor. 

“Are we winning?” Jeremy asks.

“Uh…” Trevor points at Gavin. “Maybe? You think maybe you can get him down and beat Jack?”

Jeremy chuckles at Gavin’s trapped and suspended form. “Sure. Keep those three off me.”

“I can take Matt,” Alfredo says, “I take it Michael won't be an issue for you?"

“It would be my pleasure.”

Jeremy pokes at Jack’s defences and grins through at the Greenwarden. “Cute,” he says as a vine explodes in his hand.

“Oh shit,” Jack murmurs. He retreats out of his shelter, knowing full well that it will offer little protection from Jeremy.

Jeremy works his way explosion by explosion to where Gavin is trapped and suspended by anything and everything Jack could think to throw at him. Many of the plants are coated in frost or ice, but that did nothing but strengthen their grip.

“Lil’ J!” Gavin whoops.

“Just hanging out?” Jeremy chuckles.

“Haha. Give us a hand, won’t you?” Gavin asks with a playful smile. Jeremy begins his destruction of the complex web that Jack has Gavin caught up in. After the first explosion, Gavin wails, and despite promising himself he wouldn’t, he wails again and again every time Jeremy’s hand makes contact with something. Gradually the vines around him come loose until his weight alone is enough to break those that suspend his arms. “Cheers.”

“Where’s Lindsay?” Jeremy asks.

“Ran somewhere in there, probably looking for animals,” Gavin says.

“Lindsay will be looking for a while. I bet Michael’s fires have driven them all away.”

Gavin’s eyes dart over Jeremy’s shoulder and grow wide. “DUCK!”

He doesn’t need to – Gavin tackles him to the ground and throws an arch of ice over them. A wave slams hard against the ice and falls over the other side like a waterfall. With it, the wave drags two bodies that crash into Gavin’s wall before being thrown over it. The wave pulls back and leaves Michael and Jack.

Michael groans, which turns into a growl. “Get rid of that damn Nymph!”

“Great plan, Michael,” Jack grunts, “Well thought out.”

“I'm not hearing your stupid plan, Pattillo!”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Trevor’s protective. If you want to lock him down, we need to capture one of his teammates, preferably Jeremy.”

“If we touch Jeremy, we’re out,” Michael growls, “And none of us can hold him. He’ll just destroy anything we throw at him.”

“Well,” Jack ponders, “Has he ever tried blowing up flames?”

Michael’s eyes set on the Oblivion, who is dragging himself to his feet. “Hold Gavin, Fredo and Trevor off me for a moment,” he instructs.

One moment Jeremy is helping Gavin to his feet, the next the two of them are driven apart by a jet of flames. Jeremy stumbles and falls, and the flames curl around him, licking at his legs as smoke bears down on him. Through choking coughs he screams: “TREVOR!”

But the water doesn’t come. Nor do Alfredo’s winds to lift the smoke away from his lungs, or even Gavin’s usually fruitless attempts to kill Michael’s flames with sheer cold. Wherever his team are, they are either out, or they are preoccupied.

But the flames do nothing offensive. Michael makes no attempt to pull them in and burn Jeremy. They are no weapon, he realises, they are a cage. Is Michael really taking himself out of the fight just to lock down _him?_ He would be flattered if he wasn’t so confused. There are much bigger threats on his team than himself, Jeremy thinks.

Jeremy pulls himself to his feet, careful to avoid the raging flames. Sweat already drenches him, and if he stays in here much longer, he will pass out, either from the smoke or the heat. That is probably Michael’s plan, he realises. It’s a shame that Jeremy is too stubborn to go out like that.

He braces himself for the burns that will surely follow his next move – Geoff will heal him up soon enough, he thinks. Then he dives through the fire onto the damp mud outside. When he looks back, the flames persist, and he can’t see Michael. The Burner must be on the other side and didn’t notice the disturbance to the flames.

Then he hears a caw. Not just one, but dozens. He follows the noise to find Lindsay running behind a flock of blackbirds that block out the light as they descend on him, screaming and cawing as they scratch at his already wounded flesh. “TREVOR!” he screams again.

There is an unmistakable spark of heat in his palm, and the sound of a shower of blood and gore. Jeremy’s eyes open to a horror of feathers and blood and offal splattered across the ground before him, just as it had been before. The birds vanish into the trees in a flurry of panic.

Jeremy covers his mouth as he retches. Close by he hears Lindsay give a small cry of anguish, but Jeremy can’t take his eyes off the destruction before him, the second life he has taken.

Trevor had noticed the explosion, and he is equally disgusted as Jeremy and Lindsay, but moreso than that, he is concerned for Jeremy. The waters crash onto the earth as Trevor abandons his battle with Jack to hurry to Jeremy’s side. “Hey, Lil’ J? You okay?”

No. No, he isn’t okay. Jeremy is staring at the disgusting handiwork of a monster, himself. When Trevor’s form comes close out of the corner of Jeremy’s eye, he scurries backwards. “Don’t!” he cries.

He backs up into a tree, and his hand lays against the bark. He had intended to use it for support, but adrenaline and fear courses through his veins. He feels the familiar and dreadful sensation fire down his nerves to his palm, and the explosion that follows shakes the very earth he stands on.

Around the other side of the tree, Alfredo is knocked off his feet. In his ear begins a screeching ringing, and when his hand comes to it, he feels the warmth and wetness of fresh blood. His eardrum is almost certainly destroyed. Pieces of bark and wood had seared across his skin and opened wounds of varying severity all over him, but nothing lethal, at worst a few thick splinters that would need to be removed by Jack and Geoff later.

He rolls to his side and groans. His eyes take far too long to refocus, and his head spins relentlessly. But then he sees Matt, newly visible again and lying a short distance away. The two had been engaged in their own close-combat one-to-one battle for a while now, but that is clearly over. Matt’s eyes are scrunched in agony, and his hands tentatively try to cover a horrid impalement of heavily splintered wood in his leg.

Before Alfredo has a chance to call for help, there is a muffled sound of a crunch and a snap that can be heard even over his deafening tinnitus. A huge portion of the tree had been blown away – now the rest is coming down on top of them.

His bloody hand comes from his ear to summon the winds upwards while he drags himself to his knees with his other hand. “Matt, move!”

Matt finally opens his eyes, then his jaw drops and his face pales in horror. He makes an attempt to roll to safety, only to scream in agony. His leg is too damaged to move it. He can crawl, but it is a slow process, and Alfredo can be certain neither of how long he can hold the tree, nor if any help is coming.

“This is going to hurt us both,” he warns Matt, though he can scarcely hear his own voice. With one clean motion, he directs the wind back around from the tree and sweeps both himself and Matt to safety. Alfredo does his best to make a soft landing for them both, but with very limited success. Matt crashes onto the ground with a roar of pain, and Alfredo’s own landing is not much better as the splinters of wood tear through his skin. The tree finally crashes down where they had been seconds earlier, blowing dirt and leaves over them both.

“Stop!” Trevor calls to the Newbloods, most of whom had not noticed the severity of the situation yet. “STOP!”

“What happened?”

“Someone get Geoff!”

“Jack!”

As most of the other Newbloods rush to help Matt and Alfredo or beacon for Geoff, Trevor comes to Jeremy’s side. After the explosion, Jeremy had fallen into a state of panic. He had scrambled away from the tree and watched in horror as Alfredo fought to keep himself and Matt alive. Jeremy had been helpless to them; he couldn’t even bring himself to call for help. And had Alfredo been knocked out by the blast, or another been in his place, Jeremy could have been the cause of two more deaths – the deaths of friends this time. It’s getting worse. How long before he kills a Red? How long before he kills someone he loves?

Trevor drops to his knees at Jeremy’s side. Jeremy is hyperventilating and shaking and staring at the smoking wreckage of the tree he had simply _touched_.

“Deep breaths, Jeremy. You’re okay. It’s me, Trey,” Trevor says softly. His hand comes to Jeremy’s shoulder.

The moment contact is made, Jeremy falls into hysterics. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” he screams, batting Trevor’s hand away. He screams again and scrambles backwards. “Don’t touch me! Don’t…” His words fall away into sobs. Trevor says something, but his words are meaningless. Jeremy’s mind does not process them as his heart thuds in his ears and he realises that he can’t breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late, that took way longer to write than anticipated, but I think I'm happy with how it came out. That being said, I think all of my work is going to be a bit delayed for a little while. HC is due to be updated tomorrow and I haven't even started on that for working on this one XD I'm sure you all would prefer decent chapters than rushed ones.


	30. Chapter 30

Geoff clicks three times by Alfredo’s ear. The winces Alfredo makes are a good sign. He and Matt had been transferred inside where Geoff and Jack could treat the two somewhere both could focus, though after Matt’s treatment, Jack left to deal with the general. 

Healing Alfredo took far longer than Geoff had anticipated. Healing the eardrum was simple enough, but restoring both hearing and balance was unlike anything Geoff had attempted before.

“You heard that fine?” he asks.

Alfredo nods. “Good as new.”

“No ringing?”

“No ringing.”

“And your other ear?”

“It’s fine, Geoff.”

“Alright.” The healer hands him a damp cloth. “Clean yourself up,” he says before heading for the door. “Join us when you’re ready.”

“Matt, could I get a mirror?” Alfredo asks. Before him, Matt begins to bounce light directly back at him, resulting in the illusion of a mirror. Alfredo sets to work on wiping away the bloodstains around his ear and running down his jaw and neck. 

Geoff leaves the two of them to finish cleaning themselves off and heads to the nearby conference room, where General Miller, the Reds who had accompanied him, as well as most Newbloods and Tim now wait. Geoff walks into a silence that he could cut through with a knife.

Miller opens his mouth to address the room, but Geoff cuts him off by asking, “Where’s Jeremy? Is he alright?”

His answer comes from Jack. “Took some talking out, but he’s alright. Trevor took him to his room, says he’s going to stay with him as long as Jeremy needs him. Once this is over and done with, I’ll jog on up to see if they need anything. Depending on how he’s doing, it might be beneficial for Matt and Fredo to come with me, show Jeremy they’re alright.”

“But he wasn’t hurt? Physically hurt?” Geoff asks.

Jack shakes his head solemnly. “Nothing you can heal, unfortunately.”

Geoff nods. He seats himself beside Jack and folds his arms, and only when he is comfortable does he look to the General. “You wanted to talk to us?”

“Your men are untrained, undisciplined and unprofessional,” the general says with a monotone voice.

“Self-trained,” Geoff corrects, “Both against each other and on the field. In the past week alone we’ve successfully captured five Silvers – one of them amongst the most powerful in the kingdom. They’ve also cut power to the capital, interrupting Silver communications and security. Oh, and they saved the lives of at least four hundred Reds. Tell me, what have your so-called ‘resistance’ achieved within the same time-frame?”

“I didn’t say they’re useless, Ramsey. What I mean is that there is ample room for improvement.”

“So what do you suggest?” Geoff asks.

“Join us,” Miller says boldly. “You know the Silvers are already on your asses. I give them a few days at most before they descend on this place. You need somewhere to run. Fortunately for you, we’d be more than willing to accommodate you somewhere safe and secure. Let us study you and train you, and any others we might find like yourselves. In return, we will of course expect you all to fight our shared cause on the front lines, though it seems to me like that is something you are more than happy to do already. With us, however, you will have the support of thousands of our own men.”

“Thousands?” Tim murmurs.

Gavin narrows his eyes. “You want to train us? How can you possibly know more about our powers than us?”

“You’re stronger than Silvers,” the general points out, “And either they already know that, or they’ll figure that out quickly. Silvers can’t brute-force a win over you like they can everyone else, but everything has a weakness, and they know it. Every person, every ability. It’s the first thing they’ll suss out. I want to root out those weaknesses. And I want you using your heads.”

“And where is this place?” Geoff asks.

“That is confidential information, for now. Can never be too careful, particularly with Silvers such as your ‘guest’.”

“And our refugees?” Jack asks.

“Hand them over to us. We’ll make sure non-combatants are taken care of, and those that wish to fight will have the opportunity to do so.”

Tim immediately raises his hand. “I’ll fight. I’ll do whatever the hell you want me to if it hurts those bastards. And I think you’ll get about two hundred willing fighters willing to volunteer beside me.”

“Whoa,” Geoff interjects, “We haven’t agreed to join with these guys yet.”

“I don’t care; I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this my whole life.”

“Have you taken this decision up with Alfredo?” Geoff asks.

“He’s not my mother. I can make these calls for myself.”

“Your Windweaver?” Miller asks. “Is he going to be a problem?”

“No, sir. I’ll deal with him,” Tim says dismissively.

“Good. Then this trip wasn’t an entire failure. Good to have you, Gettys.” Then, Miller looks to Geoff. “Ramsey?”

All eyes fall on the healer. Geoff doesn’t look remotely pleased. He folds his arms and glares. “We’re not your soldiers, General Miller. We won’t follow orders blindly. You want us on the front lines? I want us to have a say in what’s happening.”

“This isn’t a democracy, Ramsey.”

“I know. But we are not joining with you, General, we are allying with you. You don’t order allies, you negotiate with them. And let’s face it; you need us as much if not more than we need you.”

The general grits his teeth. “You can _negotiate_ with my superiors then, if you come back with us. Does that sound fair to you?”

Geoff meets the eyes of the other Newbloods present. Michael doesn’t take his eyes away from Miller. Lindsay and Gavin turn to him, but for support rather than to sway him one way or another. Jack nods. “Alright. We’ll agree to come with you, see this ‘resistance’ and negotiate with your superiors. Those are the only things we swear to right now. Deal?”

The general stands and offers his hand over the table. Geoff clasps it and shakes once. “Deal,” Miller agrees. “We’ll begin transit within the hour. Have your supplies and vehicles prepared, and be ready to leave yourselves by the early hours of the morning at the latest.”

Matt and Alfredo find Barbara outside the door to the conference room. Both hear the muffles of argument or debate, but neither can make it out. Barbara, on the other hand, knows exactly what is going on inside that room, and she looks _furious_.

“Uh…” Matt fumbles, “Can we…?”

“I’m out here because I’m banned,” Barbara snaps. “Reds only. General’s orders.”

“So what’s happening?” Alfredo asks.

“You guys made a deal with them. Congrats.” She gives them both a false smile that fades back into a scowl, then she pushes off from the wall and storms past.

“Wait! What deal?” Alfredo calls after her.

“Ask them yourselves! I need to find Trevor.”

Matt and Alfredo look to each other. “I thought you said she saved your lives?” Matt asks.

“She did.”

“She seems freaked out. Geoff wouldn’t let anything happen to her after that, would he? If not for her, then he at least wouldn’t do that to Trey?”

“I don’t fucking know, man.”

The conference room’s door opens. The general leaves first, sparing neither of them a look as he marches past. Those he brought with him follow behind, and only Fiona nods in their direction. And then come the Newbloods.

“Geoff!” Matt steps up, only to be respectfully pushed away.

“Not now. Get ready to leave,” Geoff says. He passes without another word, and not so much as a glance at either of them.

“ _Leave?!_ ”

“He’s in that mood again, lads,” Gavin says. “‘Geoff the leader’. Just do what he says. Pack up. Oh, and Matt, Jeremy might want to see you. Or not, he’s… well, he’s taken it rough again. Worse than before.”

“Jeremy? Oh, fuck… Is he in his room?” Matt asks. Gavin nods, and Matt thanks him and rushes away. 

“Change your clothes!” Jack shouts after him, “ There’s blood all over them! You’ll frighten him! Ah, fuck, he’s not listening…” He chases on, shouting Matt’s name. Gavin disappears too before Alfredo can ask more.

One person stays behind. Tim hugs Alfredo from nowhere and laughs at Alfredo’s startled shriek. “It’s me, Fredo. How’s your ear?”

“My ear? Fine. Where the hell did you come from?!”

Tim gestures lazily over his shoulder. “Meeting. Someone needs to be the voice of the little guys like me. I mediated. Sort of.”

“So what happened?”

“We’re leaving. Tonight.”

“With _them?!_ ”

“The Silvers will catch us if we stay. Miller says he can take us somewhere safe. And he says he has an army of Reds ready to fight with us!”

“I’ll believe that when I see…” Alfredo halts abruptly. The air around them begins to stir. “Did you say ‘ _us_ ’?”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Okay, here we go. You know what? Screw it. I agreed to join them, Fredo. I want to fight for our people and you won’t stop me.”

“Fuck that! I won’t stand by and let them use you for cannon fodder!”

“I won’t be cannon fodder. Unlike the Silvers, they value Red lives. They’ll train me.”

“I don’t care how much training they give you! None of it will matter against one of them; they’ll kill you in an instant!”

“So you want to fight this war alone, huh? You and, what, a dozen Newbloods, against thousands of Silvers? You know that’s impossible. You need this army that he’s promising.”

“Yes, but _you_ don’t need to fight!”

“Why?” Tim demands. “Because my life is worth more than theirs? You know, I’m not happy about you risking your life for our cause either, but that was your decision and I respect it.”

The winds roar around them as Alfredo shouts back: “It was not my decision! I ended up with these guys because you turned me away when I needed you most! I agreed to fight with them because I didn’t know what the fuck else I could do after that. If you had just helped me out that night, neither of us would be fighting!”

“If you stayed, you’d probably be dead, Fredo. They came looking a few days later and they kept tabs on us for weeks. And I don’t say that to try to defend what I did that night – I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“So make it up to me, Tim. Count yourself out of this and keep yourself safe. I can’t protect you forever.”

“Then don’t. I’m a grown-ass man. I can take care of myself.”

“Fredo!” Geoff shouts from down the corridor. “You can kill him later. We have work to do.”

“On it,” Alfredo calls back. He steps past Tim, then rounds. “This conversation isn’t over,” he adds.

“Whatever you say.”

Trevor sits quietly at the foot of Jeremy’s bed, well out of Jeremy’s reach. The Oblivion is hunched up on his bed with his knees brought to his chest almost like a frightened child. His hands, once again gloved, clutch his legs so tightly that they have grown stiff, yet he can’t bring himself to let go.

Jeremy hasn’t spoken since Trevor brought him in, other than once to quietly ask Trevor not to leave his side, but at least some progress has been made. Trevor had helped Jeremy get his breathing under control and his heart no longer pounds in his chest and his ears. Beyond that, however, he has remained mostly irresponsive.

It is a sorry sight for Trevor, especially given the progress that Jeremy had made before. Now he is in an even worse state than before, and there is nothing Trevor can do but remain patient with him.

‘ _Hey._ ’

Trevor jumps and gasps in shock. His sudden movement panics Jeremy, who shudders and backs away panting with his hand on his heart. “It’s fine,” Trevor says softly, pointing to his head. “It’s just Barbara talking to me.”

In no way is having a mind-reader close by reassuring to Jeremy, but he takes a few deep breaths and tries to relax.

‘ _I need to talk to you._ ’

‘ _Can it wait?_ ’ Trevor thinks.

‘ _Not really._ ’

‘ _I can’t leave Jeremy alone._ ’

‘ _You don’t have to. Matt’s coming._ ’

“Matt?” Trevor says aloud. Jeremy shudders and clamps his hand over his mouth.

‘ _Just ran into his room to change. He’ll be two minutes, if Jeremy wants to see him._ ’

Trevor glances to Jeremy. “Matt’s come to see you, if you want to talk to him. Geoff fixed him up so he’s fine – nothing to worry about.”

Jeremy opens his mouth to speak, changes his mind and clamps his jaw shut again, then rethinks, then nods once.

Trevor gives him a soft smile, then stands and heads to the door. He opens it just enough to look out. Barbara is stood with her arms crossed over herself, shifting her weight repeatedly back and forth. She looks agitated.

“You need to tell me what’s so urgent. Matt and Fredo are fine, right?”

“Yeah, they’re absolutely fine, as usual. It’s… it’s about those Reds, and… It’s about me, and my dad.”

Trevor’s eyes widen. He checks on Jeremy quickly – he is watching silently and with genuine concern. Trevor gives his best smile and says, “I need to step outside for a second, okay Jeremy? Matt will be here in just a moment. That’s fine, yeah?”

Jeremy nods. Trevor leaves and shuts the door quietly and takes Barbara’s arm tenderly and leads her a few steps away from Jeremy’s room, then whispers, “What happened?”

“Geoff made a deal with that bastard,” Barbara says through gritted teeth, “You’re going with them. _Tonight_. Geoff agreed to hand my dad and the other prisoners over to them, and he made no provisions for me. I’m pretty sure they’re going to lock me up as soon as we arrive and they can get me away from you, and after that… I don’t know, and I won’t know until we confront them, but it makes sense that they’d want us gone.”

“Gone?”

“Dead, Trevor!” she whispers. Her voice breaks and she blinks back tears.

Trevor pulls her into his arms and tucks her head beneath his chin. “That won’t happen. Nobody will touch you as long as I have a say in it.”

“And my dad? I know he’s an ass and we’ll never change him, but he’s my _dad_. As long as he’s imprisoned, he’s not a threat to you or them and I can’t watch him die, but if I speak up, those Reds will twist it and use it as evidence that I’m against you.”

“Don’t worry. Hey, don’t worry. I’ll do what I can for him. I don’t want him dead by our hands any more than you do. I’ll talk to Geoff and the others; we’ll come to some sort of agreement.”

“No, no, it won’t be enough!”

“Calm down,” Trevor says, “It’ll be okay. The others can vouch for you. Geoff, Alfredo, Tim, they can all vouch for you.”

“Yeah, for _me_. But do you think any of them will care in the slightest what happens to my dad? They might not want to be the ones to do it, but believe me, every single one of them would sleep much better at night if they knew that he was dead. They won’t lift a finger to help him. And I get it, I understand, and they’re right, he doesn’t deserve their help, or yours, but… Trevor, help me.”

He nods and takes her hand and wipes away her tears. “Come on,” he says, leading her down the corridor.

He halts only to knock at Matt’s door. “Yeah?” Matt calls out.

“Take care of Jeremy. Tell him I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Matt’s door opens slightly and he peeks out. He is mostly dressed, save his shirt which is half buttoned-up. “Where are you going?”

“Need to talk to Geoff about something. You know where he is?”

“No idea. Wouldn’t talk to me or Fredo. Stormed off after he met with the general. So, uh, good luck with that.”

“Great,” Trevor moans. “Thanks anyw…”

Barbara gasps and tugs Trevor’s arm. He rounds to defend her from whatever startled her and pulls as much water from the air as he can manage. What he sees are four of the Red soldiers who had arrived with the general, supported by Fiona. One of the soldiers says calmly, “Silver, please come with us.”

“Why?” Trevor demands.

“It’s not our place to ask questions, and neither is it yours. Silver, please come with us.”

“The general just wants to talk to her,” Fiona says, “And if it means she’ll come peacefully, he’ll talk to you too.”

‘ _Agree to it, Trevor,_ ’ Barbara instructs, ‘ _They’re not lying._ ’

‘ _And if they’re just ignorant?_ ’

‘ _I think we'll be okay. Trust me on this one._ ’

Trevor frowns, but he backs down. The water crashes to the floor harmlessly. “Alright, I’ll talk,” he says. “Matt, take care of Jeremy. I’ll be back soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to regret using italics for Barbara's ability XD
> 
> Update 8/10/2020: I have rewritten this fic to make it a safer, more enjoyable read for the community given recent events. I have tried to change as little as possible, and the overall plot remains unchanged. Please find a list of major (honestly not that major) changes below:
> 
> The introductory training fight in chapter 5 is now between Trevor and Gavin. Michael now remains with the others to watch.
> 
> The training fight in chapter 6 is now between Michael and Gavin (slight change to Gavin's established abilities and skill level as noted by BiZaRePistachio in the comments)
> 
> Jeremy and Matt go on the mission to destroy the power supply in chapter 13 alone. It is now Matt who speaks with Trevor on the phone.
> 
> On the evening after the battle of Burron and Merethorpe in chapter 22, Geoff and Jack now speak alone.
> 
> In chapter 27, Trevor and Gavin return the body alone.
> 
> In chapter 29, the 5 vs 5 is now 4 vs 4. As Fiona was originally there to balance teams, she was the logical choice to remove from the fight. I'm not happy about it as that was her shot at showing off her ability, but I will make sure to give her another opportunity to do so.
> 
> Magnetrons still exist. It's a cool power. I'm not losing that. (I considered giving it to Lindsay, but fuck it, they can still kick ass with what they have now. I like Animos for Lindsay. Maybe I'll introduce a Magnetron later. Ooh, maybe I'll give that ability to someone like Ify. Now there's a thought...)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're back! Hope everyone's doing okay :)
> 
> Just a head's up, at the end of the last chapter I left it on Barbara having a plan. Well, guess who that plan absolutely required? Yup. So I've rewritten the end of the last chapter (or rather, the second to last line of the last chapter). It's not exactly a huge change to the plot so don't worry about it.

“You’re not the one I asked for,” Miller comments.

Trevor shrugs and sits down. “I’m the one you’re getting, for now. She’s outside with Fiona. First, tell me what you want with her.”

The general sits back and takes a long breath while he observes Trevor. This strange Red boy is tense, agitated, frightened and angry, that much is clear, but he bundles all that away behind an air of confidence. He’d be a good leader if his judgement wasn’t so poor.

“She’s controlling Nova?” the general asks eventually.

“I think you’re overestimating her power.”

Miller gives an amused smile. “Have I now?”

“We persuaded Fiona. She is one of us, you know. So, what do you want with Barbara? Were you going to arrest her?”

“I was going to negotiate with her, Nymph. And if I wanted to negotiate with you, I would have asked for you.”

“You negotiated with Geoff, didn’t you? He represented us, and she is one of us. If you came to an agreement with him, you have no need to speak with Barbara.”

“Geoff and I agreed to an alliance for the foreseeable future that consisted of both Reds and Newbloods. He made no reference to any Silver.”

“An accidental omission from preliminary talks. Why don’t you call him back?”

“Your Healer is busy, as is your Greenwarden and anybody else I would think has a say in leadership around here. And I think your Silver is capable of negotiating her own terms, isn’t she?”

‘ _He has a gun,_ ’ Barbara tells Trevor, ‘ _But no intention to use it. At least, not yet._ ’

Trevor scowls. “How do I know you won’t shoot her the moment she steps in here?”

Miller chuckles. “Boy, she’s a Whisper. I’d need a small army if I wanted to shoot her and live to tell the tale. How do I know she won’t make me put a gun to my head the moment she steps in here?”

“Alright, you don’t trust us, and we don’t trust you. That’s understandable; I don’t know you, and you don’t know us. But you judged her to be an enemy before she ever opened her mouth near you.”

The general nods in thought, watching Trevor closely. “You sound like a city boy, no? Or major town?”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m trying to place which one.”

Trevor deflects instantly. “Major town, but you wouldn’t have heard of it. It’s not important, anyway.”

“Why not? Surely you must still have family there? Friends? Anybody you care about?”

“Sure. I don’t talk about them, though.”

“Why not, Collins?”

Trevor scowls. “To keep them safe.”

“From who?” Miller asks. Trevor opens his mouth to speak, but his words catch. “From you? From Newbloods? From _us_?” Miller presses, “Or from _them_? Silvers like that thing outside?”

“She’s not a _thing_ and she’s not like them!”

“So you’re protecting them from Silvers. Sounds to me like somebody’s judged them before they ever opened their mouths near them.”

“I’m not naïve enough to believe that all Silvers can be swayed. I know what could happen if Silvers find out what happened to me back there – I’ve seen what happened to one of us already. But have you considered that maybe some Silvers aren’t like that? Nobody is inherently evil, and maybe some harbour thoughts that this world isn’t _right_. Maybe they’re just as powerless as we have been to do anything. Barbara agrees with us that this divide isn’t natural, and she has fought against her own family to save my life, a Red life. I’m not asking you to consider her a friend or even entirely trust her, because I know you hardly know her. I know you hate her, and you’re entitled to if you really want to, but think of her as an ally, the same way I am. She is and will be far more useful to you if she is alive and an active member of this alliance than she will be if she is dead or captive, and I will be much more agreeable if you don’t try to assassinate or execute or imprison my girlfriend.”

Miller waits patiently for Trevor to finish his rant, then calmly says, “Again, I never said I would harm or imprison her, Collins. I just want to negotiate.”

‘ _It’s okay, Trevor. I’ll talk to him alone,_ ’ Barbara’s voice echoes.

‘ _Why? What did you hear?_ ’ Trevor asks her. ‘ _Did he threaten you?_ ’

‘ _Nothing like that. Can you trust me on this one?_ ’

‘No’ is Trevor’s gut reaction. He audibly sighs when he realises that Barbara probably heard that. Miller raises an eyebrow – he’s not stupid, he knows Trevor’s silence is not due to private thought or consideration.

‘ _It’s not you I don’t trust,_ ’ Trevor thinks.

‘ _I know. I understand._ _Just let me deal with this. I’m certain I’m safe, for now at least._ ’

Trevor glares at the general for a long moment after this, then he stands abruptly and makes his way to the door. Only when his hand reaches the handle does he think better of his silence and turn back. “If you lay a hand on her, or even _think_ about hurting her, I’ll…”

“Save your breath, Nymph, it’s unnecessary. If she feels threatened, I’ll be dead before the next thought crosses my mind.”

Trevor grits his teeth and leaves, letting the door slam shut behind him. Barbara is waiting patiently beside Fiona, engaging in awkward small talk to cover her telepathic conversations and eavesdropping. Trevor takes her hands and says, “Swear to me you’re comfortable doing this. Say it to my face.”

She shrugs it off as if it is just another everyday conversation in a bizarre shift from her previously agitated state. Trevor can only guess at what she must have heard. “I will be fine. Why don’t you go help your friends pack up?”

“Barb…”

She cuts him off quickly. “Geoff is upstairs – I think he needs help lifting something. The two of you should be able to manage it.”

Trevor doesn’t look entirely convinced, but against his better judgement, he agrees and lets her go. The general is right; Barbara can certainly take care of herself, and as uncomfortable as Trevor feels with the situation, it isn’t his place to stop her. With a forced nod, he releases her hands, throws a parting gesture at Fiona and leaves.

Most of the Reds and supplies have been evacuated by sunrise to a nearby train track. Miller informed them that many of the Reds who work the supply trains are friendly to their cause and, as such, trains are a safe way to covertly and quickly travel the kingdom.

Barbara left her meeting with the general almost an hour after it began. Both re-emerged unharmed and with stoic faces. When Trevor questioned her later, she dismissed him, calling the agreement she reached with Miller private. Of course, that hardly satisfied Trevor, but he let it go, and she headed inside to sleep and did not resurface until an hour before dawn, at which time her father and the other Silver captives were knocked out by Geoff and safely and securely evacuated.

Many of the Reds and Newbloods had worked through the night to get to a new, safer location as quickly as possible. Others had taken brief naps through the night where they could, but by the time dawn breaks on the horizon, exhaustion is setting into everyone.

By the time the last two vehicles are almost prepared, all that remains are the Newbloods, the general, Tim and Barbara. Most of the Newbloods had just finished searching their old base top to bottom for anything useful that remained, but none returned with anything. The building is an empty shell – even some of the curtains had been torn down for the cloth. Now they linger, fighting the urge to collapse into sleep, while Tim and Jeremy load up the last of the supplies into the back of a truck provided by the general’s men.

“Summer is definitely over,” Barbara comments as she shudders and pulls her jacket closer around her.

Trevor hums in agreement. After a moment, he pulls his scarf from his neck and wraps it loosely around Barbara’s neck, then pulls her up under his arm and tucks her head against his chest beneath his jaw. “Better?”

“…Yeah,” she breathes, “Yeah, it is.”

Michael watches the brief interaction from afar. As much as he still wants to distrust the Silver, even he can’t deny that Barbara saved Trevor’s life, and Alfredo’s, and possibly every other Red and Newblood in the building that day. And perhaps, he admits, their feelings for each other aren’t entirely synthetic. He rolls his eyes, groans at the realisation he could be warming up to a _Silver_ , then lets the familiar warmth in his nerves flare up and extend into the environment, creating a beacon of warmth around himself that envelops everyone.

“Thanks, Mikey,” Gavin says with a small, sincere grin. Gavin doesn’t feel the cold the same way everybody else does, but he can feel the comfort of warmth. Trevor smiles his thanks at Michael too.

Jeremy pats the last of the supplies, says, “It’s done,” and retreats back to Matt’s side. At Matt’s concerned glance, Jeremy shrugs it off. “I’m fine. Just trying not to think about it. It’d help if you didn’t look at me like I’m an injured puppy.”

“Sorry,” Matt says with a gentle tone. Jeremy doesn’t respond. In fact, he actively tries to avoid making eye contact with Matt. Looking at him does nothing but remind him of the guilt and terror he feels. Matt takes Jeremy’s silence as a sign of exhaustion and leaves it, only to pull a puzzled expression at the others. “Um, do you guys hear that?”

“Like a whirring? Yeah, I hear it,” Lindsay says.

Alfredo’s head snaps up. “Something’s disturbing the air.”

“Can you tell what it is?” Jack asks him.

He gets his answer much sooner than he expected, as an aircraft abruptly appears in the sky, soaring like a rocket overhead. And from where it came, explosions shudder the very ground they stand on. And now, something dark is falling over them.

The group’s actions are rapid and well co-ordinated. Fiona tackles the general and Geoff to the ground and shields them both as best she can with her own body while Tim takes Lindsay under his arm and tucks them beneath him. Trevor pushes Barbara into Matt’s arms and shouts for them to take cover with Jeremy while he steps into the centre of the group with Alfredo, Michael and Gavin. The winds sweep to life and Alfredo propels them upwards, slowing the descent of whatever the aircraft dropped on their heads, while Trevor throws a dome of water around everyone, and with a mere touch, Gavin freezes it solid. Outside their protective ice shell, the explosions draw closer and louder until their defences are engulfed in flames that even Michael struggles to restrain. Gavin focuses on maintaining the already shattering defences while Trevor throws water against the vicious blaze, Alfredo tries to drive them back and Michael battles to extinguish the fire from within.

The struggle is over in a matter of seconds, but to them, it felt like minutes. As soon as the flames around them are under control, there is a deafening boom and a tremor runs through the ground that finally shatters Gavin’s defence and brings those standing down with their hands over their heads. One of them screams, or perhaps more, it is difficult for anybody to make anything out. When the dust clears and the world calms, they raise their heads to see the base levelled to the ground. The world around them, particularly the woods, is alight. The trucks they had planned to escape in are thoroughly destroyed.

“Everyone alright?” Geoff grunts. He receives several groans of confirmation.

“Carpet bombing,” Michael spits, “Really?”

“Ugh…” Alfredo groans, dragging himself back to his feet. “Well, they found us.”

“What was that?” Lindsay asks.

“A bomber plane,” Barbara answers.

“And our cue to leave,” Miller adds.

“Yeah?” Geoff kicks the smouldering remains of part of one of their vehicles. “How long’s the walk?”

“I’ll call in alternate transportation. Later. Right now, we just need to be out of that thing’s sight.”

“The general is right. It’s going to come back around any second now,” Barbara says.

“I can hide us,” Matt suggests.

She shakes her head. “No. These things are built to account for typical Silver abilities, Shadows included. It’ll use thermal imaging to find you. It might just bomb again for good measure.”

“So you expect us to outrun that thing?” Michael snaps sarcastically.

Barbara doesn’t pay him any mind. Rather, while the general begins to instruct the group, she looks Alfredo up and down and nods. ‘ _You’re our best shot._ ’

Alfredo winces at the sudden voice in his mind, then finds Barbara and points to himself with a look of confusion and horror. ‘ _Me?!_ ’

‘ _Fredo, I’ve seen Silver Windweavers do it. Nothing so big or so fast, true, but maybe you have a shot. We can’t hide from or outrun this thing. You need to try. For what it’s worth, I’ll have Matt cloak you._ ’

‘ _And if I fail?_ ’

‘ _The rest of us will be close. If nothing else, we can make sure we last the hits._ ’

The general finishes his instructions with: “Get back and take cover.” The group follows him at a sprint at the burning trees, with Trevor and Michael ahead of the pack to ward off the flames. Only Barbara and Alfredo hold back. She nods to him. Alfredo curls the wind around his wrist, sighs, then nods back.

He isn’t exactly the picture of confidence, but it’s the best Barbara can ask for. She says, “Good luck,” to him quickly, then bolts to take cover.

On the way, she passes the hesitating form of Tim, who grabs her arm and demands, “What’s Fredo doing?!”

“He’s got this. Come on; if we stay here, he’ll kill us both in the process!”

“Fuck that,” Tim spits before releasing her and sprinting back towards Alfredo. As he runs, the wind sweeps up and almost knocks him off his feet before Alfredo realises what is happening and releases his control on the wind to find the idiot brave enough to run into a forming hurricane.

Tim slams into Alfredo, wraps his arms awkwardly around him and begins to drag him back towards cover. “Are you insane?!” Alfredo snaps at him.

“I could ask you the same thing. Come on!”

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Saving your ass!” Tim growls, “ _Again!_ ”

Alfredo struggles free, backs up and summons a strong enough wind to blow against Tim to get his threat across without sweeping him away. Tim narrows his eyes at him. “You won’t use your powers against me.”

“Try me,” Alfredo spits.

They glare at each other for a long moment. Tim breaks the silence first. “You won’t let me fight for our people in a trained resistance army, yet you’ll happily throw your life away for this stupidity? And you expect me to stand by and do nothing?”

“Really? _Now?!_ Now you want to bring this up?”

“I mean it, Alfredo! I don’t want to die here, yet here I am, by your side waiting for some Silver metallic flying monster to rain fire over our heads because I don’t want to see my best friend die. I know you wouldn’t let me be so stupid. Come on, Fredo, we might still have time to make it to the others.”

Alfredo nods. “You won’t die here,” he says, and then he begins to weave. Before Tim can even protest, he is swept away by a wind so strong he can hardly breathe.

A jet of water catches him safely, and Trevor and Michael pull him into cover behind a barrier of ice with the rest of their group. “NO!” Tim screams at them. “Let go! FREDO!”

“You better be right about this,” Geoff whispers to Barbara.

Tim, with his much bigger build, shoves Trevor off him, and Michael doesn’t last much longer on his own. The Red tries to scramble back to Alfredo, but when he looks up, even he realises that reaching him is impossible. A violent hurricane of smoke and ash has risen where Alfredo stood, powerful enough that even at such a distance Tim needs to duck back into cover to avoid being swept away. “FREDO!” he roars.

In the distance, they hear the whirring that preceded the initial attack. Soon enough, they hear the explosions and feel the tremors as yet more bombs fall in the distance, growing closer and closer. With each shudder, Jeremy clutches Matt tighter and whimpers. Matt abandons his cover of Alfredo – the smoke has achieved that well enough – and clutches Jeremy back and squeezes his eyes shut and desperately hopes to see another day.

Nobody can see the plane approach, mostly due to the smoke, but they can hear it roar closer. The wind shifts suddenly, and the plane breaks through Alfredo’s storm at a strange angle and an even stranger trajectory. It plunges towards the ground and crashes somewhere in the woods with an explosion to rival the base’s demolition. Where it landed, flames roar into the sky. Moments later, beside the crackling of fire and the dying howl of the winds, there is silence.

That is, until Fiona begins to laugh, a nervous, terrified laugh. “We’re alive,” she chuckles, then falls against Gavin’s shoulder and continues with disbelief, “Holy fuck, we’re alive…”

“Wait,” Barbara says. Her eyes are wide and horrified, but staring at nothing in particular. Trevor is by her side in an instant as she mutters, “I can’t hear Alfredo…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to get away from showcasing individual people and powers for a little while and instead focus on how two or more powers can interact and be used in tandem with each other. The end of this scene was supposed to show a merger of the Windweaver and Magnetron abilities but... well, yeah. So Alfredo gets the spotlight again! I mean, really who's complaining?


	32. Chapter 32

Tim is on his feet before she can finish his name and barrelling into the dying hurricane. The rest of the group follows suit as quickly as they can with Jack carrying Geoff due to his injured leg. Michael, Trevor and Gavin control the roaring flames and keep them well at bay, but there is little they can do for the choking ash and smoke that is resettling over the area after Alfredo’s winds cut out.

Tim finds Alfredo’s body lying limp on the concrete. His skin is coated with sweat and soot, and his hair windswept and clumped with sweat. A stream of crimson blood is falling from one of his nostrils.

Tim falls to his side and scoops Alfredo into his arms and shakes him. His skin is almost burning to touch. “Frey! Fredo!” He tilts his ear to Alfredo’s mouth and hears and feels a single weak but warm breath. “Fredo, wake up!”

“He’s alive?” Geoff asks as Jack sets him down by Alfredo’s side. He grunts as he kneels.

“He’s unconscious, but he’s breathing. Maybe the smoke or the heat got to him.”

Geoff lays a hand gently on Alfredo’s cheek. “Hmm,” he murmurs in understanding, then he sets to work waking him up.

Alfredo’s eyes flash open with a gasp, and the winds sweep to life again. “Fredo!” Tim cries. The only reason he and Geoff are not swept away is that they clutch tightly to Alfredo until he calms and the wind dies again.

“What happened?” Alfredo’s voice croaks. “Where am I? Tim?”

“Trevor,” Geoff calls, “He needs water! And Gavin, I need you to pull the temperature down.”

“You passed out,” Tim says.

“Yeah, and somehow managed to bring a plane down before you did,” Trevor adds as he kneels over Alfredo’s head. “Open your mouth, dude, you’re dehydrated as hell. Tim, lift his head up.”

“…I remember that,” Alfredo mutters as Tim readjusts him. Trevor brings a cupped hand around to Alfredo’s mouth and drags any remaining water vapour out of the air and into his palm, which he gently brings to Alfredo’s lips and helps him drink.

“Somebody should go check the remains of that aircraft,” Miller says. “If a Burner was piloting, they might have survived.”

“No. Silvers wouldn’t risk their own lives like that needlessly,” Barbara argues. “I’d bet my life that it was piloted remotely. Better we get out of here while we still can. There might be others, and if not, Silvers could have another aircraft here easily within half an hour.”

Miller grits his teeth, but nods. “Fine. Get him on his feet. I can take us to a safer location.”

The journey is long and silent. They travel by foot across seemingly endless plains and fields, usually covered by the Shadow’s veil. Occasionally, the group hear a plane or a drone overhead in the distance, but they are fortunate in that they are never found and a fight is never warranted.

Miller is used to silence. Hostile silences, even. Yet for the first time in a long time, this one makes him uneasy. It isn’t because any one of them could end his life with little more than a thought if they so desired – that is just the same as any armed squadron – nor that these people are of a new and so-far unstudied type of blood, and with untested allegiances to normal Reds as far as he is concerned. No, the problem is that damn Silver. These people embraced a Silver. Worse, she has that brainwashed, moronic Nymph wrapped around her finger, and many of these Newbloods around his.

When Miller casts his eyes over the group, he grits his teeth to see Fiona walking close beside the Shiver and the Animos. The only other normal Red, Gettys, is far out ahead of the group close to himself. Gettys has a face of stone. It seems these people have loyalty to those who possess abilities above their own blood.

The group reach Miller’s secure location around midday. A small barn with a crumbling roof and peeling paint. The structure looks like it could collapse any moment – hardly the place to contain superhumans, or keep them out.

“Is that it?” Matt groans.

“Looks like we could get tetanus just by breathing nearby,” Gavin adds.

Miller rolls his eyes as he leads them towards the door. “Believe it or not,” he says with an irritated growl, “This is the securest location that we know of for miles, and somewhere we can use to contact others without Silvers intercepting the message.”

“In _there_?” Jeremy asks.

“You’ve all heard of the cataclysm, no? Or the great death, or whatever else they call it? The disasters, and the floods, and the fires?”

“That was centuries ago,” Trevor comments.

“Over 500 years,” Barbara specifies.

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, some people had forewarning of the events, and they built places like this, supposedly they could withstand a nuke. Oblivion, if you will.” Miller gestures to the heavily oxidised steel door.

Jeremy shrinks back. “Uh… Me?”

Michael shakes his head, steps forward and shoves the general back. “Stay back,” he warns.

“Jones…!”

Michael’s fists alight. He thrusts his hands towards the door and his fires obey. Soon enough the metal is glowing red before it melts inwards. Michael lowers his hands as the embers die into nothing, leaving a hole in the metal just large enough for a man to fit through. “Withstand a nuke, huh?” he snaps sarcastically as Gavin cools the edges of the hole.

“Not the outer building,” Miller growls in return. He follows Gavin inside where, as expected, he finds a hatch on the ground. As the others follow through, he continues his explanation. “Underground bunkers like this were built all over the country. The lucky few who were able to reach one and be admitted survived the calamities, and they came out as they went in. The rest of humanity was left to fend for themselves. Almost all of them perished; perhaps a few dozen of them made it, though mutated. Perhaps that’s how they survived, I don’t know.”

“Silvers?” Barbara asks.

Miller nods. “Why do you think your kind calls us rats? Nova, can you help me with this?”

Fiona kneels opposite Miller, takes the hatch and they begin to unscrew it. As she does, Trevor wonders aloud, “So if the Silvers got their powers after being mutated in some crazy natural disasters, how the hell did we get ours?”

“Aren’t we all wondering that?” Miller grunts. Fiona throws the bunker open to reveal a narrow channel down into the pitch black. Matt shines a light down to reveal a bland room with metal walls, also somewhat rusted. “The Silvers forgot about these places over time as they wrote their own history, but we never forgot. Somewhere down there we should find something through which we can send a code with our co-ordinates to other bunkers, one of which is monitored by us. The resistance will make our extraction a top priority.”

Fiona climbs down first, then Miller follows. The Newbloods look between each other, all exhausted but none particularly willing to go first. Eventually Michael bites the bullet, muttering about sanitation. The rest take their time following, with Barbara going last.

Inside is a room filled with beds and filthy mattresses that very well could be centuries old, and with the smell to match. Initially, Matt illuminates the bunker, until Michael finds an ancient lantern to light.

By this time, Miller is sat at a strange device in the corner, furiously tapping a button in what must be some code. “You should all get some sleep,” Miller says as he does, “Last thing I need is cranky morons with superpowers.”

“On what?!” Michael snaps, gesturing to the beds, “There’s no way this shit is safe.”

“Sleep on the floor if you must. You can rough it for a few hours.”

“Great,” Michael mutters under his breath. He pulls his jacket off and folds it, throws it to the ground and lies down with his head resting on it. By no means is it comfortable, but he is so tired he hardly cares.

The others do their best to settle in too. Jack helps Geoff sit against the wall and stretch his wounded leg out. Matt and Jeremy lay close to each other. Most of the others opt to sit on one of the beds with their backs against the wall.

Alfredo has his eyes closed when he feels the bed he is sat on sink with another’s weight. He glances with one eye. Tim is sat on the edge with his hands clasped before him as if thinking.

“You sleeping, or…?” Alfredo asks.

“You know, I thought I lost my best friend today,” Tim says softly.

“You didn’t.”

“This time.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you keep trying to throw your life away.”

Tim rounds on him. He keeps his voice low but still manages to convey his anger. “Don’t even try to compare this! I want to join a legitimate resistance and help our people however I can. You faced a damn bomber plane on your own! Superpowers or not, that’s suicidal!”

“What choice did I have? They would have pursued us either until we were dead or until backup arrived. Barbara told me I was the only one who could do what had to be done.”

“And you believed her?” Tim raises an eyebrow.

“If she wanted to get me killed, I’d be dead already. Instead, she saved my life. So yeah, I believed her, and she was right.”

Tim scoffs. “That’s not what I mean. You know, you’re overconfident in your powers. You’ve lost more fights than you’ve won.”

“But at least I’ve been in them!” Alfredo growls. Under Tim’s glare, he softens. “You know what, I’m too tired for this.”

“You and me both,” Tim agrees with a sigh. Without another look Alfredo’s way he stands and makes his way to the opposite side of the room to find a spot.

Alfredo’s attention is drawn away when he realises that Jack, the closest Newblood, is watching him. Jack shakes his head, drags himself up and sets himself down again at the foot of Alfredo’s bed.

“I can see how close you are,” Jack mumbles. “You two fight like you’re family.”

“We never used to fight,” Alfredo comments. His eyes switch from Tim over to the general, who is still tapping out his message, and his eyes narrow.

“These are strange times,” Jack says. With a lighter tone, he asks, “Mind if I sleep here by you? You look like you need company and I… Well, truth be told I think I need someone close by.”

“You need to talk?” Alfredo whispers.

Jack pauses, then shrugs and shakes his head. “Nah. Get some sleep, kid. Long day ahead.”

Jack never hears a response, so Alfredo must have taken his advice. He sits in the silence for a short while, fighting his own desire to sleep, as the others drift away into well-needed rest. Eventually, he speaks up. “What do you want from us, exactly?”

“Hm?” Miller asks.

“What are you hoping to get from us?”

Miller ponders. “A lot of things. Nova has proved the greatest asset I have brought to our people. I’m hoping you will all live up to her example.”

“Yes, but what do you want us to _do_? You’re going to train us, and then what? Are we going to be symbols of Red strength? A beacon of hope? Do you want us to exist solely as a message to our people or the Silvers? Or will you risk your greatest assets? Put us in the field?”

“That decision remains to be made, Pattillo. But if it were down to me, I’d have you front line, yes.”

“We are not warriors, Miller,” Jack says. “Nor are we killers. Most of them are little more than kids, a quarter of a century old, give or take. Our powers won’t change that. None of us were made for this. All this talk of war and fighting and death… I don’t have the stomach for it.”

“We rarely do, to begin with. Warriors are made, not born. I’ll make fighters out of you.”

“And killers?” Jack asks.

Miller nods. “I’m not asking you to enjoy it. I’d be worried if you did. But I can’t have you shutting down in the middle of a fight if you do, and we can’t afford to miss weeks of training because you’re recovering. Silver blood is the price we must pay for our freedom, and I’d much rather pay that than continue to pay in Red blood for the world we currently live in.”

Jack casts his eyes over the group. Jeremy lies on the ground, occasionally shuddering or twitching, likely suffering another of his nightmares. Matt, though certainly asleep, has his arm reaching towards Jeremy – maybe he had a hand on Jeremy’s arm before they slept. Nearby, he sees Trevor clutching Barbara tight with both arms and leaning over her as much as he can, as if he doesn’t trust Miller not to harm her in their sleep. And Michael, Gavin, Alfredo and Lindsay, all fighters, but not killers. No, no matter how dangerous their abilities, these are not killers, and Jack dreads to wonder how Miller plans to make them so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long break between updates, sorry about that. I got super busy, but over the Christmas break I think I should have plenty of time to catch up on writing.


	33. Chapter 33

The next morning, the first awake is Fiona. She rises silently, checks for other roused individuals, and when she finds none, she stretches and makes her way out of the bunker.

The morning air is cool, but Fiona is indifferent to it. Her morning exercises will warm her up soon enough. She stretches once more, reaching upwards while her back arches. She lets her body continue to arch until her hands find the ground, then she effortlessly kicks her legs over, lands on her feet and launches into a backflip. She lands on the balls of her feet, bounces a little, then takes off at a jog around the inside of the barnyard.

After a few laps, she ups her speed into a sprint, projects herself from an old metal pipe and pushes off the wall to grab and swing atop a beam, all in one fluent movement. She would have carried on, were it not for the bunker opening beneath her.

It is one of the other Newbloods who crawls out: Gavin. He looks around, seemingly confused by the emptiness of the barn, until Fiona clears her throat. His head snaps around to her and he raises an eyebrow. “What are you…?”

“Exercising,” Fiona says.

“Up there?”

She laughs and lets herself fall back from the beam. The other Newblood shrieks as she falls, his hands push out as if to catch her, and from his palms shoots a wave of ice that settles beneath her.

Fiona is just able to twist enough in the air for her feet to plant safely on either side of the ice before springing back to safety. When she lands she glares at Gavin. “Are you trying to kill me?!”

He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his head. “Sorry. Sometimes when I panic it just happens.”

“You should be more careful, asshole,” she says harshly. He winces at her words. Fiona looks him over and says, more calmly, “You’re the Shiver.”

“Yeah. And you’re a Silk, whatever that means. Flexibility?”

“Among other things,” she says. “Think of me like a perfect human specimen, physically. Strong, fast, flexible.”

“That seems… underpowered,” Gavin comments.

Fiona scoffs. “You’ve never fought me. None of you scare me.”

Gavin laughs to himself. “No one’s scared of me.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Well… I wouldn’t put it that way.”

She laughs to herself. “Care to join me?”

“For what?” Gavin asks.

She rolls her eyes as if it should be obvious. “Exercise.”

“Oh! Uh… Not my thing. Not without a shower in my foreseeable future, anyway.”

Fiona chuckles. “Suit yourself, Shiver.” She darts past him, uses her momentum to seemingly fly up the wall and catches the windowsill, then pulls herself up onto it and sits facing Gavin with her legs crossed before her.

“Impressive,” Gavin commends her.

She shrugs the compliment off. “What’s the deal with all you guys, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, you’re all so… _tense_. It’s like a room filled with firecrackers just waiting for a spark and then you’ll all blow.”

Gavin’s eyes fall to the bunker. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess we’re all just tired. Physically. Mentally. We’re all drained. It’s like it just hasn’t stopped recently, and now it feels like the Silvers are always one step behind, nipping at our heels, and if we slow down it’s over. Not just for us, either, for _everyone_. That pressure… It’s always at the back of my mind, you know. That if we fail, our people lose their only hope. It grates on the others too – I know it does. Michael, Trevor, Geoff especially. We just… we need to rest, and we know we can’t afford to.”

Fiona listens closely. She does not interrupt.

Gavin continues: “I miss my family too. My friends. I haven’t seen them since I discovered my powers. I just wish I could hear from them, let them know I’m alright. They probably think I’m dead. Fuck, they could be dead for all I know.”

Fiona nods in understanding. “I get that. All of that. Maybe not to the same extent – I think Greg did a good job keeping all that pressure off me.”

Gavin snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at her. “The General?”

She shrugs and smiles a little. “Back when we met, I knew him as just plain old Greg Miller. Don’t tell him I still call him that behind his back.”

Gavin breathes a small laugh in admiration. “You’ve known him a while?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I owe my life to him, actually. I found my powers pretty early. Guess they’re easy to find when they’re always active. Silver guards caught on, I ran, same old story. I ran for days. Old Greg found me. He fed me what little he could and he hid me when they came looking. After that, I stuck around to help him with his work. It was pretty labour-intensive; you can imagine how my powers were a big help to him. Then some guy found us, told us about this secret Red organisation that was growing. Greg and I decided to go find them and show them my abilities. We joined together.”

“Was he always so stuck up?”

Fiona grins. “He’s changed. He’s not the man who saved me anymore, but I think he’s the man who will save all of us or die trying. I know he’s giving you guys a hard time, but he’s just doing what he thinks is best for our people.”

“No chance he could let up on us for a little while, is there?” Gavin asks.

“Maybe, once he has you all secured. But if he gets what he wants and is allowed to oversee your training, he’ll push you all hard.”

Gavin frowns. “You agree with his methods?”

“I agree with results. Right now, I don’t feel so hot on storming Silvers with you guys at my back. I hope that changes,” Fiona admits.

At a noise, she tosses her head over her shoulder to watch out of the window. “Looks like our ride is here.” She slips from the window, catches it with one of her hands and springs down from the wall safely, then heads into the bunker.

Gavin considers following, but instead opts to investigate the strange sound of their transport. It is no jet, car or van. At least, none that he has ever heard. He peeks his head out of the barn to see two strange airborne machines approaching and descending towards them. He has never seen anything like them, but they appear to be great metallic shells with something whirring above them to provide upward momentum. They look utterly fascinating.

They set down slowly on the grass outside a safe distance from the barn from each other. As they do so, a gust of wind is thrown out from their slowing rotors that shudder the walls of the barn.

By now, other roused Newbloods are joining him outside and watching the strange machines with a mix of fascination, excitement and fear.

“What the fuck are those things?” Matt asks.

Michael responds: “Helicopters. You see them occasionally over the capital.”

“They look like death traps,” Matt complains.

“They _feel_ like death traps,” Alfredo adds.

“Don’t lose your nerve before you’ve even gotten in the damn things,” Miller says as he marches past to greet the pilots. “If you don’t like them, you’re welcome to walk.”

“They’re safe, guys,” Barbara reassures them, laying her hand on Matt’s arm. “I’ve travelled in them a few times. As long as the pilots are competent, we’ll be absolutely fine.”

“Don’t add conditions to the term ‘we’ll be fine’. Adding conditions means there’s a reality where we won’t be fine. I don’t want to be anywhere near whatever happens when one of those things goes wrong, let alone inside it.”

“Ever the optimist, Matthew,” Barbara says. She pats his arm. “We’ll be alright. You’ve already faced more dangerous foes than a friendly helicopter.”

After a brief discussion with one of the pilots, Miller shouts back to the group. “We’re good to go! Everybody in!”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt mumbles. He catches Barbara’s arm. “I can’t do this!”

“You can,” she assures him. “You’ll be alright. I’ll sit with you if you like.”

Matt’s wide eyes dart between her and the helicopters that the others are approaching. His breaths grow rapid, then he focuses on Barbara. “Are you going to…?” he points at his temple. ‘ _Can she even do that? Screw with my head? Fuck, can she hear this?!_ ’

“Matt, no, relax. I’ll make sure I stay out of your head, and I promise I won’t control you. You have my word. I’ll just sit with you and we’ll talk and before you know it, we’ll be there.”

Matt watches Michael climb into one of the vehicles. Behind him, Trevor pauses. He glances around until he finds Barbara. Barbara dismisses his concern with a thumbs up. Trevor nods, smiles reassuringly at Matt, then climbs inside.

“Okay,” Matt says quietly. “Okay.”

She smiles sweetly and takes his arm and leads him to a helicopter where Jeremy, Jack, Alfredo, Miller and Tim are boarding.

Alfredo holds back while Jeremy helps a quivering Matt inside. ‘ _He’s right,_ ’ Barbara hears Alfredo think in a thought that probably wasn’t meant for her, ‘ _This is a death trap._ ’ He is eyeing the blades with scepticism. Barbara maintains the pretence of his privacy and says nothing.

Once Matt has taken a seat close to the door, Alfredo climbs in behind to the vacant seat beside Jeremy, and Jack beside him. Barbara crawls into the seat next to Matt and points to the two headsets beside him. “Put one of those on, and can you pass another to me?” Matt does as instructed, and Barbara pulls her own over her ears and adjusts the microphone before her. “It’s to protect our hearing and let us talk to each other and the pilot. It can get pretty loud in here.”

“That’s a shame,” Jack says, “I was hoping to get a little more sleep in.” Still, he accepts his headset from Jeremy and slips it on and pulls the microphone to his mouth. “Testing, testing, Greenwarden to crew.”

“Whisper receives. Over,” Barbara replies, smiling over her shoulder at him. Jack gives her a thumbs up.

“Oblivion confirming contact.”

“Windweaver received.”

“Silk here. Over.”

“Uh… Shadow… Shadow got the message. Thanks.”

“General Miller here. Stop clogging up the intercom. Over.”

“Spoil-sport.”

“I can hear you, Dooley.”

“I know,” Jeremy replies. Miller doesn’t rise to the bait.

Across from the General, Tim leans towards him and says, “Shouldn’t we do something about… You know…” he nudges his head towards Barbara.

“ _Excuse me?!_ ” Barbara hisses. Behind her, Alfredo tries to rise to glare at Tim, but Jack holds him back and shakes his head.

“Easy, Silver. Nothing personal.”

“She’s here for me, asshole,” Matt spits.

Miller interrupts before the situation can get any more heated. “Don’t antagonise, Gettys. She’s their ally and so, for the time being, our ally. If you’re not comfortable, you’re welcome to take the other aircraft.”

“No Sir. I trust your judgement,” Tim says. He sits back in his seat, looks out of the window and makes no further noise. Barbara glares at the back of his head, then tosses her hair around to block him and focus on Matt.

‘ _Barbara,_ ’ she hears. Her eyes dart back to Alfredo. ‘ _He’s right. Don’t take it personally. It’s me he was trying to upset._ ’

‘ _Still fighting?_ ’

He glances back at his old best friend. ‘ _I think he’s trying to make me resent him. If I resent him he thinks I’ll let him fight._ ’

‘ _Will you? It should be his choice, shouldn’t it?_ ’

‘ _No,_ ’ his instinctive thought is. She can feel his shame, but his answer doesn’t change. ‘ _Hey, don’t tell Trevor about this, yeah? I don’t need those two at odds with each other right now._ ’

She nods. ‘ _He won’t hear it from me._ ’

‘ _Thanks. You can stop listening to my thoughts now. I’m still getting used to it. It’s a little invasive._ ’

‘ _Understatement of the century,_ ’ she agrees before pulling away from his mind and returning to her usual state of trying to block out the many thoughts and minds around her.

“Pattillo, can you shut and lock the door?” Miller asks. Jack drags it across, and Barbara shows him how to secure the lock.

“Ready for take-off, Sir?” the pilot asks.

“Affirmative.”

“Preparing for take-off."

The moment the rotors begin, Alfredo grabs Jack’s wrist tightly with one hand while his other clutches his seat. His eyes are closed, and his jaw clenched.

“Fredo? Fredo, that’s a little tight!” Jack protests. He tries to gently pull Alfredo’s arm away, until he sees his distressed state. “You doing okay?”

Alfredo nods stiffly, pauses, then shakes his head.

Jack leans in close and tucks Alfredo under his arm. His voice immediately drops as if to whisper to Alfredo. “Claustrophobia?”

Alfredo shakes his head again.

After a few moments, the pilot comments to Miller, “Uh, we’re not moving, Sir.”

“Technical fault?”

“Sir, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this aircraft, I can assure you,” the pilot says.

Miller casts his eyes around the interior of the aircraft until his eyes fall on the tense Windweaver. “Of course…” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “Diaz!”

One of Alfredo’s eyes squints open. “Sir?”

“Whatever you’re doing, stop it.”

“Me? I’m not doing anythi…” he tries to argue, before he realises that that isn’t entirely true. Alfredo is holding the air around them deadly still. Calm air, calm Fredo, he rationalised, and it was working, to an extent. At the very least, it stopped his panic being projected out to his element and destroying the helicopter. The realisation that with a thought he could disrupt the flight of the aircraft and possibly kill everyone within brings fresh horror. He almost gags at the thought.

“Fredo?” Jeremy asks. Surprisingly, Jeremy places his hand bare hand over Alfredo’s exposed wrist for support. Even in his panic, Alfredo doesn’t miss the significance of the gesture. This must be the first time Jeremy has made skin-contact with anyone since the first incidence.

Alfredo nods at Jeremy. “I uh… Give me a sec.” He closes his eyes again and takes a few deep breaths, then slowly weakens his grip on the air. The more he does, the more he feels the rotors slicing through his element like constant knives. It takes every inch of self-control not to snatch the air straight back under his ability.

It isn’t long after that that the helicopter lifts off. Alfredo presses into Jack further and Matt grabs Barbara’s hand in terror. Barbara takes a deep breath. This trip is going to be a lot longer, and a lot more dangerous, than she thought.


End file.
